The Road Less Traveled
by Magali1
Summary: Complete: 12/7/2013; Sequel to "See You On The Other Side." Tim and Lyla take a road trip when Lyla loses control. Characters from See You appear, but major supporting roles go to Matt, Julie, Jason, Erin, and Eric and Tami. Quirky romance/friendship fic. In-Progress.
1. The Main Road

**A/N:**This is the sequel to _See You On the Other Side._ It's a little quirkier and starts off in Lyla's POV to set the stage for some of her issues this time around and then goes into Tim's POV for the remainder of the fic. Since it's a "road trip" fic, it tends to be a little choppy, but hopefully it's still readable :) The events take place six months after the Epilogue to _See You on the Other Side._ The first chapter sets up Lyla's angst and explains everything further in the ensuing chapters. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 1: ****The Main Road**

"I don't understand," Lyla repeated. She nervously shook her foot, sitting in her attorney's office in downtown Austin, and her fingers tightening around the folder in front of her on the glass table. She lifted her face, staring down the woman she'd hired because she had nice eyes and a reputation for being a shark. "I don't understand."

Maria Winter, her attorney, leaned forward over the small table, turning the motion towards her. She seemed truly apologetic. "Unfortunately Jackson is protesting the dissolution. He's claiming it was made under duress and he was not in his right mind when he signed the paperwork, that it's invalid and the judge is unfortunately agreeing with his lawyer's argument."

That didn't explain anything. Lyla shook her head again, shouting. "I don't understand!" How could he say that? They'd agreed together! They sat down at their dining room table one evening, both of them agreeing that it wasn't working out. They'd tried the counseling, they'd tried spicing things up in the bedroom, and they'd tried going on a vacation and working on themselves. She'd gone to therapy alone and he'd gone to therapy alone and they couldn't do it…she closed her eyes, reaching to press her palm into her forehead, shaking her head, whispering. "This is a nightmare."

It was supposed to be an easy divorce. Dissolution. Whatever. Split all assets. He got their townhouse in Stanford and she got to leave with just what she brought into the marriage. No alimony. No children. They both kept their cars. They split the checking account right down the middle. Lyla lowered her hand to the table, reading the motion again. The judge in California agreed with Jackson's bullshit and his attorney, claiming that yes, he was feeling pressure from his medical school exams, his internship at the hospital, and her desire to leave the marriage as soon as possible because she was moving back to Texas. "It's supposed to be California! It's a no-fault state!"

"He's using law that's essentially what's done under annulments. He's applying it to divorce, it is really very clever," Maria laughed. She cleared her throat, her laugh faltering at Lyla's stony glare. "But now is not the time to look at the law in that way, what we're going to do is appeal the decision, we'll work through this…"

"But for now I'm still married to him!"

Maria sighed, patting her hand. "Lyla, you've _been_ married to him. The judge in California due to this motion hasn't signed off the final paperwork. He's essentially telling us to go back to the drawing table. You're going to have to get a divorce and not a dissolution, it is just schematics."

No it is not, I don't want a divorce! Divorces mean trials and anger and regretful things, she thought, pressing her palm into her eye. She had to get to work; she couldn't do this right now. Lyla dropped her hands back to the table, whispering. "What does he want me to do?"

"I've seen this before Lyla." Maria got up from her chair, walking around to sit beside her, reaching to pat her hand in a grandmotherly way. She smiled, her sparkling reading glasses catching in the sunlight filtering in through the tall windows. "He wants you to come back to him. It's a desperate attempt to get you to speak with him again, to get you back."

"But I don't want him back," she whispered. I married Jackson because I was young and stupid and believed that it would all work out. She sat up in her chair, swallowing hard and shaking her head, whispering. "This is a lot, um…what's the next move?"

"The next move is I will respond to this motion. We'll appeal the decision in California, I may have to fly out there to argue…" Which meant money, Lyla thought. She'd picked Maria not just because she was a shark, but also because she was licensed to practice law in California and in Texas. She hadn't had an attorney in California to begin with, because it was supposed to be simple. Sign the papers, get the judge to sign, and they were both separated from each other for good.

Practically an annulment, she thought, shaking her head; that might have been easier to get in California. Maybe she could justify that she was under the influence or under duress when she married him. She got up from the chair, assembling her things. "Do what you have to do, just keep me apprised." She sighed hard, whispering; resigned. "So I'm still married to him?"

"Yes."

Lyla leaned back, something dawning on her. Oh God. She chuckled, rubbing at her forehead. Stupid. Of course. Of course this was about…I should have realized. She squinted, turning her head, speaking softly. "I know what this is about." I'm an idiot, I should have realized it. She bit her lower lip for a moment, reaching under the collar of her shirt. She removed her necklace she never took off, dropping the charm and a ring off of the chain. She returned the charm and set the ring on the table with a soft clink, the diamond sparkling in the bright light above their heads.

Like most women, Marie's lit up and she reached for the ring, ooing and awing over it. "That's gorgeous!" Maria removed the ring, holding it up to the light. "Is that a black diamond?"

"Yes."

"It's beautiful." She set the ring back into Lyla's palm, shaking her head and already putting it together. "He found out you're engaged to someone else."

"Jackson and I haven't been together for six months," Lyla whispered. She'd moved out into her apartment in Stanford while she defended her dissertation and awaited the results. After graduation, she moved back to Austin. Six months ago. It was nearly Christmas and she was still legally tied to Jackson Thorne. It was ridiculous. They'd only been married for three years! She cleared her throat, shrugging and whispering. "And I'm not engaged. It's not an engagement ring." This was where it got hard to explain to people. She shook her head, whispering. "I have to get it fitted, which is why I'm not wearing it. It's a gift, a promise ring, but Jackson knows there's someone out there that I will be with one day, that was kind of…" She shook her head, whispering. "He was like a shadow in our marriage."

Maria frowned slightly. "Shadow?"

"I can't explain my relationship with this guy in the remaining ten minutes we have on our appointment time," Lyla chuckled. I can barely explain it to myself a lot of the time. She twisted the ring around, finally sighing and returning it to her necklace, her voice soft. "Jackson found out I went back to this guy after I moved back here and that's why he's doing this."

Maria shook her head again. "Promise ring or engaged or not, you're still legally married to Jackson Thorne under California state law, which is recognized across the country by all the other states. We'll get through this Lyla, it just might take some time, but we'll be in touch." S he sighed again, whispering. "Just do not engage him, whatever you do."

I have been effectively dismissed. My hour is up. Lyla stood, saying goodbye to Maria, holding her heavy folder of paperwork under her arm. She walked out of the office building and down the street to the adjacent parking garage, reaching up to loosen the collar of her white button-down blouse. It had a loose tie around the neck, which felt like it was strangling her. She shrugged off her jacket while trying to hold her large tote bag and her folder of paperwork. The envelope fell, papers and folders scattering on the sidewalk. "Damnit," she cursed, kneeling down to assemble everything. She looked up when a man's hand reached over to push some of the folders back. "Thanks," she mumbled, lifting her eyes.

He was quite attractive, she thought, smiling in polite thanks. "I know they say women can multitask, but probably not when you're carrying so much stuff," he laughed. He had dark red hair, she thought, cocking her head slightly. That was unusual. He patted her elbow. "You okay? Got everything?"

"Yeah, yeah, thanks," she laughed, rolling her eyes, her voice quiet. "It's all my divorce paperwork, so you know…probably wouldn't be good if it just went floating off into the Colorado River."

"Well since that's two blocks away, I'm going to say unlikely," he laughed. He offered his hand, carefully shaking what fingers she could offer him, while still holding everything. "I'm Sean."

"Lyla," she answered, smiling quickly. This was really nice and she…well hell, she might go off and have a drink with him if it weren't today of all days. She shook her head, laughing. "Um, well it's nice to meet you, thank you for saving my divorce papers."

"If you're getting a divorce, you probably could use a drink," Sean said, smiling again. It was uneven. She kind of liked that. Made him look like a pirate. He gestured towards the parking garage. "Why don't you go to your car and then drive in it and meet me at Tod's? Over by the university?" He rolled his eyes at her curious look. "I'm a professor there. Not a student."

"Professor, wow, well, nice to meet you Sean, Professor at UT, but I really shouldn't…" Lyla stepped around him, towards the parking garage, smiling again. She paused, her nose wrinkling. Come on Garrity. It's not like you're tied to anyone. Not like that at least. The ring was just…it was a gift. It didn't mean anything. You guys were clear on that. She sighed, rolling her eyes again. "Okay…um, fine. Drink. That'd be nice, thank you."

"I'll see you there, at seven?" he asked, walking backwards, his hands in the pockets of his battered leather jacket. Sean smiled again. "Lyla."

There was a spark, that's for sure, she thought, turning away from him, her cheeks a faint pink. She went to her car, placing her things in the backseat and climbed into the front, waiting a moment. Jackson was purposefully messing with her and trying to ruin her life. The giver of the ring was most likely ensconced in something and wouldn't answer his phone if she tried calling him. Plus the last time she saw him, he was dating a stripper Mindy set him up with. She shoved her car into gear, backing out of her parking space, deciding she'd go to work before she went to the bar to meet Sean for drinks. It wouldn't be too long, she thought, parking at the UT hospital and heading inside, finding her boss standing outside. "Paul?" she asked, pausing. She squinted. "What's going on?"

Paul turned around, shaking his head, whispering. "I'm so sorry Lyla."

Her eyebrows lifted. "Excuse me?" They were searching through her file cabinet. Two security guards. She reached for a box they were going to open. "Excuse me! Those are patient files!"

"And I'm afraid we've received an anonymous complaint about you abusing your position with the patients, Lyla," Paul said. He seemed truly apologetic. He shook his head, whispering. "You know and I know that this is false, all of it, but HR needs the files to ensure that everything is on the up and up, but until they complete their investigation, I'm afraid you're being placed on administrative leave. Paid, of course."

"Of course," Lyla snapped. Her mind was racing. This made no sense! Who on earth would…her eyes closed. "Oh my God." She covered her mouth, her eyes opening again. Rather than feel tears prick the corners of her eyes, which she expected, she felt them almost go dry. Like steam from the anger bubbling up inside of her was threatening to explode out. "I know who did this." She pointed at Paul. "When did this complaint come in?"

"It came in yesterday, but you were off. HR is taking possession of the files now." Paul again seemed sorry, shaking his head and whispering. "Lyla, I am so sorry. I know this is untrue, but with this NIH grant we're working on getting…we need everything to be clean."

"Of course," she drawled. The patients…her patients! Lyla shook her head, whispering, concerned. "What about…"

"I'm already handling it," he said, patting her shoulder comfortingly. It did nothing to help soothe her. She didn't care about Paul's apologies and comfort. If he had any balls, he'd have told HR to suck it, said if the NIH didn't want them to get the grant because of false accusations, then they would try next year. Of course, Paul was a nice guy who would never do that. He didn't rock the boat either.

Jackson did this, she thought, watching the guards box up her files. She closed her eyes. The patients were going to be devastated. It was one thing for him to try to stop their dissolution from going through because he was angry with her. It was another to call in anonymous complaints that she abused her position with patients. What was that supposed to mean? Lyla cleared her throat, stepping away from Paul. Part of her was shocked that she was somehow remaining this composed. In light of the previous meeting she'd had, she thought she'd be flying off the handle. "Um, when…when will I be formally notified of this?"

"A letter is on its way to you now," Paul said. He shook his head, whispering. "And I'm to let you know that you have to turn in your badge until this whole thing is cleared up."

"What are the allegations?" She lifted her chin, her eyebrow arching. The more composed you are Garrity, the more professional you are, the more Paul might try to help you. Don't fly off the handle. That wasn't her style anyway. She was a much more passive-aggressive personality.

Paul led her down the hallway from her office to his. He closed the door behind him, gesturing to a seat in front of his desk, but she ignored it, choosing to stand. If she sat down she might be tempted to knock over the computer. He sat back in his chair, opening up a file. "The complaint alleges that you falsified records in order to obtain a grant last month." He looked up. "The Peterson-Hawkins Foundation Grant."

"That was for research into C-4 vertebrae sports injuries in memory of a cheerleader and a football player respectfully who died from them!" Lyla exclaimed. She campaigned hard for that grant. It was already helping to fund programs that UT was putting on with local schools. She wanted to cry now. She took a deep breath, whispering. "I didn't falsify anything!"

"I know you didn't, Lyla, but I'm sorry. This also goes on to say that you are too emotionally involved with your patients, that you overstep the lines…"

"I went to Charlie's funeral because he was a longtime patient from California of mine and he died!" Lyla exclaimed. That had been a source of issue with the board of directors, because she'd told Charlie's mother that she'd wanted to do more with him, to help loosen his spine, but it was not allowed by hospital regulations. He'd died of a blood clot that his mother insisted was caused by her not being able to do the procedures. It was in litigation at the moment.

Paul shook his head, closing the file. "There's some more…"

"What!?" she shouted. Now she was getting angry. She spun on her heel, her hand covering her mouth. I'm going to kill someone, she thought, closing her eyes tight, whispering. Almost threatening. "What more Paul, could there possibly be that you actually are entertaining as truth and not the spiteful misconduct of my ex-husband!" This wasn't going to get anywhere. Lyla drew back her shoulders, her lips pursing. She smiled politely after a quiet, reflective moment. "Ah…I will take my administrative leave now," she whispered, swallowing hard. She glanced down at Paul, her voice clear. "I can be reached via my cell phone. Thank you Paul. It's been…enlightening." Lyla removed her hospital ID badge, setting it down on his desk and quietly walking out of the hospital to her car.

She promptly climbed into it and drove to Tod's, near the university, and parked. She climbed out, marching into the bar, hoping that Sean was already there, even if seven wasn't for another couple hours. To her happiness, he was seated at the bar with a glass of beer, watching the flatscreen television. Sean was attractive. He had nice eyes, she thought. She liked the red color of his hair. He'd helped her when many had passed her by as she attempted to get her papers together on the sidewalk. If he was truly a professor, that was a decent job and he didn't look like a serial killer. Lyla marched up to him, grabbed his arm and turned him around. "Hey," he laughed, smiling and frowning. "It's not seven."

"I know," she said, reaching for his face and pulling him in for a kiss. After a second, she broke the kiss. Not bad, she judged. There was chemistry between them. Maybe not fireworks, but she'd only felt fireworks with two people in her life. One was married with two children and the other one was...not around right now. She let go of Sean, smiling quickly and whispering. "My place isn't too far."

Sean's smile fell, replaced by a cloudy look in his eyes. His voice was husky. "My place is around the corner." He frowned slightly. "Do you want a drink or…"

Yeah, maybe getting drunk would help with this, she thought, nodding quickly and taking a seat beside him. She sighed hard. "Jack Daniels, double."

"That's a hard drink."

"For what?" she snapped, arching an eyebrow. She smirked. "I'm from West Texas and I went to college in the state where Jack Daniels was invented. " She took the glass from the bartender, taking a long, long pull from it, grinning at Sean as she felt it warm her insides, the buzzy feeling already spreading through her body. She squinted, her lip quirking up. "I think we should get another round. In advance."

A couple of hours later, she was stumbling out of the bar, drunk with a guy she barely knew, her arm linked in his, laughing at some ridiculous thing he said as they weaved their way from the bar towards his apartment, wherever that was. She felt her phone buzzing in her hand and glanced down at the face on the screen. It was Tim. When was the last time he called her out of the blue? Probably two months or so. She looked up; Sean was peering down at her with his smoky green eyes and dark red hair. She wondered if he was Irish or something.

What are you doing Lyla Garrity, she wondered, hitting ignore on the phone and putting it away. "Who was that?" Sean asked. "Anyone important?"

Someone very important. Someone who doesn't just call. Lyla shook her head, lying through her teeth. "No one. It's no one." She reached up for him, kissing him again. You don't do this Garrity. This isn't you. It's never been you. You suck at this. She didn't care, letting Sean lead her to his apartment, which was in fact around the corner.

In her drunken stupor, she briefly wondered if he was a graduate student, given the mess of his apartment, but Lyla didn't care, throwing her bag and coat down on the floor, reaching up to kiss him. I need to do something, she thought, as he pulled at her clothes. This is the least Lyla thing she'd ever done. It was just sex, she thought. Sometimes you just needed to cloud your mind and she was going to cloud her mind with someone who just wandered by at the right time and place in her life. And she was quite sure, later that night, as she dressed in silence, gathering her things and slipping out the door without even leaving a note, that she was never going to see him again.

As she walked down the stairs of Sean's apartment building, she felt tears trickle down her face, her fingers trembling on the screen of her phone. She hiccuped, walking down the sidewalk, hugging herself. She felt sick. Dirty. I don't even know his last name, she thought, hiccuping again and pressing her fingers to her lips. The phone rang several times, until he answered.

"Hey."

Lyla let out a sob; that was all she could do. She didn't even know how to say anything. I can't think, she thought, somehow finding her car in a parking space near the bar. There was a ticket on it for overstaying her parking limit. She was lucky it wasn't getting towed, she thought, grabbing the ticket and shoving it into her bag, sobbing again. "I need…" she cried, unable to form words. "I don't…I can't…please." She sobbed out again. "Tim!"

"I'm on my way."

She sat in the front seat of her car, leaning over her steering wheel, sobbing. How sad was it, she thought, a moment later, wiping at her eyes and finally shoving her key into the ignition. Seven years after he'd showed up on her doorstep, Tim Riggins was on his way to her door again. Except this time it was to help her, she thought, driving away from the curb.


	2. Detour

**Chapter 2: Detour**

Lyla had scrubbed her skin so hard that she remained bright red for the next couple of hours; her skin was so raw. Lyla reached to rub at a spot on her neck, staring at her reflection in the mirror in the hall of her small bungalow in the Georgetown neighborhood of Austin. She'd lied before, saying her apartment was around the corner from campus. It wasn't. She rubbed at her neck again, closing her eyes and trying not to relive the events of the night before. I was so out of control. I tend to do that sometimes. Just go off the deep end and lose my mind. Pretend like everything is all right and when I wake up out of whatever hypnotic spell she'd been under, she regretted her actions. She'd thrown herself into everything and lost herself s many times. Here she was doing that again.

It's okay, I'm just getting a divorce because my ex-husband can't handle that I left him and he decided to get back at me by lying to my employer about what I do, putting me on leave and so I slept with a guy I didn't know at all, that I literally only knew for two hours. Not even that. Five minutes. Ran into on the street. He was nice, so she slept with him. What is wrong with me, she wondered, opening her eyes and meeting her gaze in the mirror. The woman staring back was the same as she'd always been. It wasn't like she'd gone comatose after her divorce. To be honest, she'd felt like a new woman. Like she'd slipped back into that old Lyla shell for the three and a half years she'd been married to Jackson.

She went into her bedroom, slipping off her robe and changing into a pair of skinny jeans and a large Dillon Panthers t-shirt. Ordinarily she wouldn't have put on something that might incite memories she didn't feel like having, but it was soft and comfortable, which she wanted to be right now. She went back downstairs, crawling beneath a blanket and sitting on her couch, staring ahead at…nothing. Who could she possibly call and tell? Tell that she was put on leave from her job, her ex-husband was a tool, and she'd had a one-night stand. Claire. Lyla reached for her cell phone, hitting Claire's speed dial.

"Hey! You've reached Claire, I can't come to the phone…"

Lyla set the phone down. "Damn," she mumbled. Claire was at MIT, working on her one-hundredth degree. She claimed that if she got more degrees and tried to figure out how the 'heathens' saw the world, then she could proof God existed. It was a crackpot thought, in Lyla's opinion, but Claire was highly intelligent and actually studying cancer stuff, so maybe she'd help with something good. One could only hope, Lyla thought.

The doorbell rang.

I know who that is, she thought, getting off the couch, walking to the front door. She opened it without looking, stepping back as Tim entered her house. She closed the door behind him. "Want a drink?" Because I sure as hell do. She walked to the kitchen, opening up the cabinet and removed her trusty friend Jack. Which she found amusing, as her ex-husband was named Jack.

"It's a bit early, but I won't say no." Tim took the glass from her as she poured a hefty three fingers into each. He glanced down at it. "That's a lot, but…cheers." He clinked glasses and tilted his head back, pouring the whiskey down his throat. He set the glass on the coffee table, whooped, and clapped his hands. "Okay! Let's get drunk."

She laughed, taking her glass. "Well you're already three fingers ahead of me."

"I'm five," Tim said, tossing back another glass. His eyes darkened on hers. Uh oh.

What are you doing, she wondered after a moment, swallowing a hard gulp of whiskey. She wasn't anywhere near done with her glass, but Tim was already taking out the tequila. Something wasn't right. "What are you doing?" she asked him, when he handed her a shot.

Tim threw back the shot, grinning. He slammed it down on the table. "You want to get drunk, so let's get drunk!" He was more than drunk, she thought, her eyes wide as he whooped again. He'd just had two glasses of whiskey and…two shots in the last five minutes. He was going to kill himself. Even his liver wouldn't be able to take it.

"Stop it," she said, her voice soft when he poured himself another. Okay, okay, I know what you're doing. She stilled his hand when he went to take another shot. His eyes were focused on hers. They were sparking, she thought, seeing the fire around the hazel irises. Okay, I get it. She set her whiskey and her tequila on the table. "Alright."

"Just saying Garrity, you want to get drunk, let's get wasted. At eleven in the morning." He crossed his arms over his chest, whispering. Getting down to brass tacks, she thought, taking their mess and carrying it to the kitchen. He followed her, his voice soft from behind her. "What's going on?"

What's going on? My life is falling apart and I threw myself a pity party. Lyla turned around, leaning her hands back against the counter. She bit at her lower lip, her shoulders lifting. "Jackson is protesting the dissolution. He signed the papers, but he's now saying he was under duress and a judge listened to him and won't sign them. We have to get a divorce." She took a deep breath; Tim wasn't showing any reaction, but listened. "And so I went to the office and they put me on paid leave because Jackson called in and said I abused my position and now HR wants to investigate the claims he made."

Tim whistled low under his breath, shaking his head. "Damn. Well…"

"It gets worse," she whispered. She lifted an eyebrow at his surprised look. Yeah, worse. She took a deep breath, her cheeks turning pink with embarrassment. Tears flooded her vision again. "So I met this guy on the street and he asked me to drinks. So I went in and grabbed him and took him back to his apartment and slept with him." She hiccupped again, shaking her head quickly. "You know I don't do that." His shoulders fell, along with his face. Yeah, you know, she thought, wiping at her eyes, sobbing. "I feel so ashamed," she cried. She hiccupped again, stomping her foot and staring at him. "And you called me, you never call me!"

Tim went to her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, his cheek resting on her head. He swayed lightly with her. He was so big, she thought, squeezing him. He'd put on muscle again, from all the contracting work he was doing. He was playing football some more. He was like a big tree, she thought, her chin resting on his shoulder. He gently curved his hand around her head, guiding it away from his shoulder so she was nestled against him. "I called you because I hadn't talked to you in awhile," he murmured. She closed her eyes, listening to his soft Texan accent. It comforted her. "Wanted to see how you were doing with the divorce."

Guess you have your answer, she thought, opening her eyes and looking up. I must look frightful, she thought, wiping at her nose, which was running. She went to her eyes next; they felt itchy from all the hot water. "I think it was just everything at once," she murmured. She swallowed hard. "I never do those things."

"I know."

"I mean…I knew a guy my first few weeks at Vanderbilt for like….like maybe three days before we slept together, but…" She wiped at her nose again, turning around from him and going to the couch, sinking into the corner, her hands falling into her lap. Her voice was small, feeling that shame bubble up in her throat. "But I've never had a one-night stand with someone I don't even know…I don't even know his last name. At least Vanderbilt guy…I knew his last name."

Tim quirked his lip up, whispering. "Take it from someone who has had many a night with people whose last names he doesn't know…" He smiled again, but it was softer. Less self-deprecating. "You'll be okay." He squinted. "You used protection?"

"Ew! Tim!" She found this humiliating, her cheeks flaming red. She shook her head, mumbling. "Yes."

"Both types?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed. God, she felt like she was accounting for her behavior with her mother or something, after she'd gone to Planned Parenthood when she was fifteen and decided that she was going to go all the way with Jason Street. She laughed a little at the memory. Lyla Garrity in her cheerleader uniform and pigtails, marching into Planned Parenthood to get condoms and birth control. Corinna Williams had been the nurse with her, asking her constantly if she was sure, did she talk to her mother, did she know was she was doing, and promptly scaring the crap out of her so much about diseases and pregnancy and emotional upheaval that she'd walked out of there terrified. Whatever Mrs. Williams had up her sleeve, it worked because she'd kept Jason off that base for another six months.

Her eyes fell back to Tim again. He shrugged. "Just making sure. You have enough going on, you don't need to get knocked up by a guy whose last name you don't know. " He smiled, but she wasn't smiling. He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing, growing sheepish. "Sorry," he mumbled. He shook his head slightly, whispering, but the smile still flirting on his lips. "Bad joke."

Very bad joke, she thought, drawing her knees to her chest. She wrapped her arms around them, feeling the ring on the chain around her neck fall out from behind the collar of her shirt. She reached to twist it around, lifting her eyes to him; he was watching the ring. "Remember when you gave me this?" she whispered.

"Yeah." He smiled, soft. Reaching for her neck, he held his palm out, the ring settling in it, along with the L charm. He looked straight through her, smiling again. "You thought it was an engagement ring."

"Until I realized it wasn't a diamond, but of course, you're not traditional."

"I live on the edge."

It suited him. Rather than a simple diamond, he'd located a black diamond. She'd wondered where he'd found the money to purchase something so precious, but he'd told her that he found it in an antique store in Santa Fe, where he'd gone to deliver some of his child wheelchair-friendly furniture to a buyer. He'd just been wandering around with Tyra, who was kind of his unofficial salesperson, whether she wanted the role or not, and found it.

Lyla touched his hand, lightly setting it back down, away from her and the diamond. "It was almost too much," she murmured. It was about two months after she'd returned from Stanford. They'd kind of been seeing each other when the mood struck them, just calling and talking or he'd come to Austin for a weekend. They weren't exclusive. She went on dates with other guys and he slept with strippers.

One weekend, fourth of July, she'd gone back. They'd ended up in bed. One of his far off neighbors was letting off fireworks, which they could see from his room. She'd just been watching when…there it was. The ring. A promise ring. One day, he'd told her, slipping it on her finger, where it didn't fit. One day Garrity. Just not yet. We're not ready yet.

But there had been someone else there for the giving of the ring, she thought, frowning slightly, thinking of the little creature that had been sitting between them. She looked up at him. "Where's Ewok?"

Tim's eyes widened. "Oh shit." He vaulted over the couch, running out of the house. Lyla leaned on the back of the couch, watching as he returned, a pissed off cockapoo in his arms, growling menacingly. "Sorry dude," he said, setting Ewok on the ground. The curly mop dog nipped at his ankles and then ran around the corner of the couch, his stub of a tail wagging as he tried to climb up onto the couch to be with her.

"Hello Ewok," she cooed, lifting up the brown cockapoo. His original name was Chewbacca, but that was too long for Taylor Cafferty to keep saying, so she changed it to "Ewok" because he looked like one as much as he looked like Chewbacca. They'd gotten a cockapoo, because Taylor had terrible allergies to pet dander, but Luke had been transferred overseas and Becky didn't want to have to deal with bringing a dog to Germany, so Tim got stuck with what he called a 'girl dog.'

Was it entertaining to see Tim Riggins love a damn cockapoo? He couldn't even say the name without looking horribly embarrassed to be near the thing, but somehow Ewok and Tim had developed a rapport. Ewok licked her face, his fuzzy little ears brushing against her chin. She scratched his head, sticking some of the curls up like a Mohawk.

Tim flopped back down on the couch. Ewok stopped greeting her with kisses, turning and baring his teeth at Tim. "I'm going to dump you in the next trash can if you keep that up," he warned.

Ewok snapped at him. Lyla kissed his face. "Shh, ignore the mean old man," she said, talking in baby talk because she knew it would annoy Tim. She held the dog close to her, feeling his comfort already start to work. Becky had rescued him from a woman who trained dogs to be comfort pets. Ewok had unfortunately failed out, because he got too distracted, but he'd passed on the actual comfort quotient. He settled against her and she felt his little heart beating against her hand.

He glanced at the window and around the living room. "You're going to go stir crazy in here," he murmured. He turned towards her again, shrugging. "You want to come out to Dillon?" He shrugged again, whispering. "We got a month to Christmas anyway."

"No." I don't want to go to Dillon while I'm wading through this mess in my life. I want to go…I just want to go, she thought, looking up at him. "You just got in your car and started driving, right?" she mumbled.

Tim nodded. "Yeah," he whispered. Ewok moved away from her, settling between both of them, placing his head on Tim's ankle. He leaned forward, scratching the dog's ears. He seemed lost in memory for a moment. Lyla waited, until he spoke. "I got in my car and started driving. I told you. I got to Dallas and just…figured I wanted to see you and kept going."

"I don't want to see anyone." She smiled. "And you're already here."

He smiled, his eyes crinkling. It was good to see him happy. Tim had told her he only had a nightmare like once a year now, if that. The last one was a couple years ago and it had been due to lack of sleep and a giant fight with Billy after Billy had ruined a huge deal Tim had been trying to make by completely crashing the pitch meeting and offering his input, which was not appreciated.

Tim climbed off the couch, walking over to put away their little alcohol-off from before. He returned, but didn't sit down, looking above her head at the artwork on her wall. It was a map of the US, made out of license plates from each of the states that the license plate piece was from. It had cost a fortune, but Lyla had to have it when she saw it. He squinted. "You said you're on leave, right?"

"Undetermined amount, yes."

"Can you do this divorce thing from anywhere?"

Lyla looked up; what was he thinking. "I suppose." She frowned, shrugging. "Why?"

Tim didn't say anything. He picked up Ewok, sitting back down in Ewok's place. He reached over, his hand dropping to her knee, patting lightly. He closed his eyes. "I had too much too fast, I think I'm going to puke."

Well that didn't answer anything. "Please don't puke in my living room."

"I'll try not to."

"No don't try, just don't." Lyla leaned her head on his shoulder, settling against his chest. She shook her head, whispering. "Why do we end up like this? Always?"

"Hmm…we're friends."

"No we're not."

He shrugged, his voice quiet. "I don't know Garrity. We just do. You needed me, so I came. You'd do the same if I asked." He opened his eyes after a second, frowning. "Well…I guess it depended on me."

Lyla sighed. Ewok nuzzled into her hand and she lightly pet his back, staring at a point on the wall. "Yeah Tim," she murmured, shaking her head, her eyes widening slightly. "The thing is you wouldn't ask." She turned around, lying against him, holding him tight. Like a stuffed animal. The way he used to hold her to comfort him when they were in Nashville together. About twenty minutes later, she felt herself nodding off and his fingers began to stroke her hair. Are you going to…yup, there he went. He sniffed her hair and she felt her lip turn up. "You're funny," she mumbled.

"Strawberry," he replied. "You changed it."

"Needed something different." She felt Ewok jump off the couch, padding off into the kitchen where she heard him fall down, his tags clinking on the tile. Lyla pursed her lips, her hand going to Tim's, which was resting over her stomach. "I really do want to go away."

"I have some ideas."

"What's that mean?" Should I be worried, she should have asked. Lyla opened an eye, peering up at him, but his eyes were closed and his breathing was evening out. How can you fall asleep that fast, she wondered. Narcoleptic, she thought lovingly, hugging him. People thought they were weird, how sometimes she'd crawl into his arms in a chair or on a couch, like they were boyfriend and girlfriend, but it meant nothing more than friendship. Mindy once said that she was just exhibiting her deepest emotions in those moments, subconsciously. Mindy was enjoying her elective classes at Dillon Tech on psychology way too much for someone who was supposed to be getting a business degree, Lyla had replied. They were friends. They loved each other. "Sometimes we sleep together," she mumbled, opening her eyes when she heard her words come out of her mouth. Now I'm talking to myself. Great.

"Hmm…I'm not sleeping with you," Tim yawned. So he wasn't completely asleep. He sighed, kissing the back of her neck. "You need a break from that Garrity."

"Pot calling kettle black."

"I'll have you know I haven't been with anyone in a month."

"By choice or have you already slept with every girl in the city of Dillon and now you have to cycle around?"

"That was one girl Garrity and she changed her hair color, how was I supposed to remember her?"

Lyla smothered her laugh; she was kidding, but yeah, she remembered that. He'd left with her at Buddy's Bar around Easter, her senior year at Vanderbilt, and the next day he'd been frantic, banging on the door to the condo, hissing to her that he'd slept with the same girl twice but couldn't remember that it was the same and now she thought that he remembered her and wanted to get together like boyfriend and girlfriend. It was like out of an episode of Sex and the City, she'd thought at the time.

And further showed that they were friends, she thought. She patted his hand. "Let me nap please. I just need to…to close my eyes and not think of anything right now." We can figure out where I can run away to in a few hours. Or maybe never. Maybe I'll just stay here on this couch. That isn't me. It isn't what I do. Lyla opened her eyes, looking down at Ewok who was staring up at her, his bright brown eyes large and warm. She patted the couch and he jumped up, bullying his way between her and Tim.

"It's like we're a happy little family," Tim mumbled. He reached to pet Ewok, who bit him. He pushed the dog away from them to the end of the couch. "Damn dog," he sighed. He reached over, bringing Ewok back to his side, flipping up his ears to scratch beneath them, which had Ewok groaning in pleasure. Lyla merely smiled.


	3. A Map?

**A/N:**I ended _See You _on kind of a bittersweet note because I like the idea of everything not working out perfectly. :) Plus I still think, even if there was a movie or something and they got Tim and Lyla back, it wouldn't be easy for them, so they're taking baby steps. Which kind of progress as they stop along the road in this fic :) Anyways, enjoy and thanks for the reviews, they are greatly appreciated.

* * *

**Chapter 3: A Map?**

My ex-husband is by far the world's biggest tool, what did I ever see in him, Lyla thought, staring down at a the text message on her phone. She copied it, pasted it into an email, and sent it to her attorney like she was told when he reached out. She just wanted to reply back to him, to ask him whatever happened to make him so bitter, when just months ago it was all agreed upon. We used to love each other, she thought, setting down the phone, looking up at Tim hunting through her fridge. "Are you going to cook?" she asked. He wasn't half bad at cooking, he just usually needed real food to do it and that often required money. Therefore, he didn't really cook. She kind of wanted his chicken. He did something to it that just made it taste better than other chicken. Some sort of spice mixture. He refused to give her the recipe. Sometimes she wasn't sure he could remember it himself.

"You want me to cook?" Tim asked, leaning back from the fridge. He shrugged. "I can. Doesn't mean I will."

"I'll pay you."

"I'm not a personal chef, but…" He clicked his tongue, inspecting the contents of her fridge and freezer again. He began to remove things and within minutes, Lyla was sitting in front of a very nice looking bowl of chicken soup. He smirked at her surprised look. "It makes you feel better. Eat it."

"You used Campbell's when I wasn't looking."

"Sue me." In fact, it was not canned. She thought it wasn't half bad. Needed more spice… Tim rolled his eyes when she poured a large helping of cayenne pepper into the soup. "You and your spice."

"I like it hot, you know that." Lyla wanted a whiskey. She looked down at Ewok, who turned up his nose at the bowl of kibble Tim had put down for him. Tim reached into his bowl of soup, shredding a bit of chicken and dropping it down for Ewok, who snatched it up. Tim proceeded to drop bits of food, Ewok eating all but the celery and carrots. She rolled her eyes. "You are going to clean that up."

"He'll eat it when he's hungry enough. Needs his vegetables." Tim looked down, chewing and lifting his eyebrows at the dog, which peered up at him. "Right mutt?"

Ewok growled. "How he hasn't bit your throat in the night is a mystery," Lyla mused. She dipped her spoon into her soup. Tim was right. It was making her feel a little better. Although she supposed that was probably the sodium. It was replenishing what she'd lost from crying earlier that morning. She made a mental note to make an appointment with her doctor, lest anything used last night hadn't been doing its intended job.

Tim propped his chin up on his folded hands, watching her from across her breakfast bar counter. He cleared his throat loudly. "So I've been thinking."

"Never a good thing."

"Shut up. So I've been thinking, you and me are good together."

Lyla dumped some oyster crackers into her soup. She stabbed them with the bottom of her spoon, crushing them in with the vegetables. Where was he going with this? "Okay," she chose to say instead of anything else.

"Tomorrow we start."

"Start what?" Why was he talking like a super villain? Lyla sighed, looking up at him. He was smiling mysteriously. "You know, the fact that you are somewhat back to your old self from high school is slightly disturbing to me." A flicker of darkness crossed his eyes. She smiled. Then there was that. She smiled, dipping her spoon back into the bowl. "Where are we going to go?"

"We'll figure it out as we go." He smiled, softer this time. The candle she'd lit between them flickered and he reached for the flame, touching his fingers to it and darting them in and out of the flame, his voice quiet. "Sometimes Garrity you just have to let go. Take it from someone whose lost a hell of a lot of control in his life."

I'm not a control freak or anything, she thought, watching him play with fire. Literally. "Tim," she warned.

"I'm fine." Lyla sighed, looking up again, licking her lips and reaching for her phone, bringing up Jackson's text. She turned it to him, waiting while he read. After a moment, Tim set the phone down, his voice soft. "Get that away from me before I say something to him."

She pushed it out of his reach; the last thing she needed was Tim sticking his nose into her divorce trying to be helpful but causing World War III in the process. She shook her head, whispering. "I used to love him." I don't love him anymore. I still care for him, which kind of bothered her more. Lyla sighed, no longer hungry. She pushed her bowl away, setting her napkin beside it and leaning forward on her arms. She looked across at him. He was watching her curiously. "What?"

"You never told me about him," Tim whispered. He scooped up some of her soggy oyster crackers, dumping them into his bowl. After a moment, he took some of the chicken as well, speaking quietly. "I mean…we were friends, but…I didn't even know you got married for like three or four months."

"I thought it would be awkward if you were there," she said. That was all the reasoning was by not letting him know.

Tim shrugged, mumbling. "It's okay, I didn't tell you I was engaged for five minutes."

"Excuse me!?"

"I don't want to talk about it." He sighed and her eyebrows were to her hairline. How could he just drop a bomb like that without explaining anything? He rolled his eyes. "You want me to talk about how I got drunk with Misty Waters…yes, that is her real name, don't look at me like that, and proposed and she believed it and I even believed it for about four months two years ago?" He lifted his eyebrows, smiling quickly. "Didn't think so."

"Misty Waters?" Lyla laughed. She laughed; no wonder he didn't tell her. She pursed her lips, her cheek muscles burning from having to restrain the width of her smile. "Wow, she sounds like she's a very…"

"She was a preschool teacher."

"Former stripper?"

"Reformed," Tim answered, lifting his bowl up and slurping at the broth. He set it down with a clatter, smiling at her again. The smile fell as his gaze flicked to the phone beside her hand. He shook his head, whispering. "What an asshole. I'll kill him for if you want Garrity. I have construction tools. We can make it look like an accident."

Lyla laughed again; it felt good to laugh, especially after yesterday. She smiled. "That won't be necessary, but thank you for the sentiment." She picked up the phone, staring at the text. She furrowed her brow, speaking deeply, in a mock impersonation of Jackson, who was very tall, big, blond, and had a booming voice. He was everything Tim wasn't, which was probably why she'd been attracted to him in the first place. "Lyla, I just wanted you to know it's not personal what happened with your work, not that I'm saying I know anything about it, but you know what you have to do if you want to make this easier. This divorce isn't about you, it's about what we could have had that you threw away for a redneck hick from your past." She dropped the phone, mumbling. "Dick."

"I like how I'm a redneck hick," Tim replied. He lifted his eyebrows. "I think both those words mean the same thing. What is that again, when it kind of messes up on itself?"

"Oxymoron?"

"Yes."

Tim fiddled with his spoon in the empty bowl. He hesitated for a moment, opening and closing his mouth. She knew something was weighing on him. She didn't say anything; he'd spit it out. It was just on the tip of his tongue; it might take him a minute. He finally sighed hard. "Am I…" he paused, swallowing hard, his throat bobbing. He shook his head, whispering. "Am I gonna' have to do anything for this? This divorce?"

"Do anything?" she echoed, her forehead furrowing.

He nodded. "Yeah like, like go to court or anything. I mean…do I need to get Hannibal involved?"

Hannibal the magical drunk Riggins family attorney? Lyla smiled, chuckling and shaking her head. "No. I don't think so, um…I'm going to…to make sure that that doesn't have to happen at all," she whispered. She hoped like hell that Jackson wasn't that big of a dick. He was a freaking medical intern right now, how could he afford all the lawyer fees going to this thing? He had more bills than she did to pay for all his schooling.

You must be really sad and depressed, she thought, getting up from the stool and taking her dishes to the sink, setting them in the porcelain. She felt Tim come up behind her, putting his away. After a second, her eyes were closing and she was falling back against him, feeling his arms wrap around her. He kissed her neck. "You need to go upstairs," he whispered. "Shower or something. Do those girly things that make you feel better."

"Hmm," she chuckled, turning in his arms and smiling, her arms going around his waist. "You mean like light candles and take baths?"

"Sounds disgusting to me," Tim said, kissing her forehead. He let go of her, nudging her to the staircase. "Go. I'll clean…" He could barely finish his own sentence, laughing and pushing her to the stairs. "Go."

Lyla smiled, letting go of him and jogging up the stairs. She made herself a bath, lit a bunch of candles, and turned her iPod on to classical violin. She settled back in the steam and bubbles, inhaling and slowly releasing. This was relaxing. Thanks for suggesting it Tim, she thought, nestling her head into the pillow she'd attached to the side of her old-fashioned porcelain tub.

For a few minutes, she was in pure heaven. No thoughts of her ex-husband, of one-night-stands, and of Tim Riggins. Until her bathroom door opened. "Tim," she mumbled, opening her eyes and staring up at him.

He dropped Ewok on the floor. "He's bugging me." He glanced down at her, a slow, long smile pulling on his lips. His voice was husky. "You look good in bubbles."

I'm not amused. She scowled. "Get out."

"Fine, whatever." Lyla watched him as he left, sauntering off and taking his sweet ass time, making sure to take a picture of the road, she was sure, closing her bathroom door to a crack, otherwise Ewok would have a fit at the closed door. She glanced at the adorable little brown dog, which was looking up at her, his stubby tail beating the rug. "Your daddy is crazy."

Ewok grumbled, as though agreeing. She chuckled and settled back in again. For about an hour she lay in the bubbles, feeling all the oils and salts sink into her skin. She finally got out when they were all gone and her skin was pruny and wrinkly, but she felt so much better. Exhausted, but better.

Lyla put on her old 33 t-shirt and flannel pants, even though it was a sixty-degree late November day. She checked the heater; Tim had turned it and the A/C off, so it would get cold during the night. He always liked it really cold. She picked up Ewok, cradling him against her and kissing his black button nose. He licked her cheek in response. She carted him into her bedroom and settled him beside her, crawling beneath the covers and falling back, her eyes closing. The bedroom door opened and feet shuffled in. She heard Tim mumble at Ewok to move his fat ass and then he settled beside her. She kicked at his ankle. He hissed. "Your feet are freezing!"

"Shut up if you're going to stay."

"Here, take this." He was passing her something in one hand and a glass of water in the other. Lyla glanced at the white pill, recognizing it as an Ambien. It was probably one of his, which as a medical professional, she should have told him was in violation of the law, but she didn't care and tossed it back, sipping some water to wash it down. Almost ten minutes later, she was out like a light, holding Ewok like a teddy bear, with Tim watching her and stroking her hair.

And when she woke up, she was in his truck, rumbling along the highway as the sun rose to the right of them. North, she thought, blinking a few times. She was in a sweatshirt, but still wearing flannel pants and he'd put a pair of Ugg boots on her feet. "Where are we?" she whispered; her voice felt scratchy. She cleared it, sitting up. Ewok was sleeping against her thigh. She blinked a few times, her eyes widening as they passed a sign saying Welcome to Oklahoma. "Oh my God! Tim! We're in Oklahoma!"

"Oklahoma is the place to be," Tim sang. He smiled, glancing sideways. "It's a beautiful morning, don't you think? We got a way early start, but you probably don't remember cause' you were still knocked out from that sleeping pill. You've also been snoring, which is why your throat probably hurts."

It was coming to her like water through a sieve. Moving down the stairs, Tim saying something about making sure she had her phone and to put on shoes. Turn off lights. Get her papers in case her lawyer called. Climbing in the car. Saying she was tired and was going to go back to sleep. Oh my God, she thought, pressing her palm to her forehead, whispering again, because she couldn't speak above it right now. "Where are you going?"

"I've always wanted to do a big road trip of the US."

"No you never have wanted that."

"All right, I've never wanted it, but you need to get away and we are going to do something different. We're getting out of Texas and we're not going to Tennessee either and I told Claire that South Carolina was maybe in the cards, but first we're going somewhere I actually did always want to go," Tim rambled. He reached into the glove compartment, removing a piece of notebook paper, dropping it into her lap.

She picked it up and stared at the directions. He'd copied it from a computer, probably. North…take I-35…she closed her eyes and leaned back, her hand shielding her eyes. "South Dakota, we're going to South Dakota."

"Mount Rushmore!"

"And then where?"

Tim patted her knee. "Wherever the feeling takes us Garrity." She was falling back asleep when she heard his soft whisper. "And when you get better." Better, she thought, smiling a little. Better was overrated. But hell, if…if Tim wanted to be the one to help her this time…she quirked her lip, leaning against the window, watching the road unfurl in front of them, heading north, with Ewok snuffling against her in his sleep.

Who was she to stop him?


	4. Exit Right Ahead

**A/N:**Thanks for the reviews! They are greatly appreciated, thanks :) Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 4: Exit Right Ahead**

What the hell are you doing Riggins?

He glanced sideways, about an hour into Oklahoma, watching Garrity sleep, her hands curled beneath her cheek, her hair pillowed against the window. He sighed, pushing his aviators up farther on his nose as they headed north. It had been a whim, the night before. He'd seen the map, the license plates above her couch, and started thinking.

Wouldn't it be fun, to just get in the truck and drive? Not really, but at the same time, she had to get out of Texas. He knew how she felt, overwhelmed and scared, emotions and feelings and all that shit slamming into you moment after every single fucking moment. It was enough to send some people into complete breakdowns eating their hair and rocking in the corner. All it did for him was send him into nighttime terrors, drinking binges, and moments of lucidity where all he wanted was someone to just…just be with him. So he wasn't alone. And then he went right back into those moments where he'd rather be alone, so he wouldn't hurt anyone and drag them down.

Tim looked down at a cold wetness on his hand. He scowled at Ewok, who was peering up at him with that look in his eyes. He sighed. "Fine, we'll pull over." He scratched the dog behind his ears, Ewok groaning in pleasure. Stupid little mutt. Stupid Becky, getting the dog before they were supposed to deploy. He'd kept him only because Taylor had been inconsolable at the idea of never seeing her precious Ewok when she came to Texas to visit.

He reached over, lightly touching Lyla's shoulder. She looked up, her eyes blinking, and the irises cloudy. "What?" she mumbled, her voice husky. She swallowed, touching her fingers to her throat. "Where are we now?"

"Still in Oklahoma." After she'd woken up a bit the first time, they'd only been in Oklahoma for about five minutes. It had only been about forty-five minutes. He knew that the Ambien would make her foggy for about an hour or so, since she hadn't ever had it. Or if she had, it'd been awhile. He hated the damn thing, only gave it to her because he knew she needed uninterrupted sleep.

And he thought she might protest if he actually told her where they were going and what his, extremely loose, plans were. He took the next exit with a gas station and a Starbucks, knowing that snooty Garrity was going to want her fancy coffee. He glanced at his gas gauge; they wouldn't need gas for a while, not since he'd retrofitted the truck with a diesel engine several years ago. He bypassed the gas station, choosing the Starbucks.

"Did you pack me any clothes?" Lyla asked, climbing out of the truck in her pajamas. She held Ewok, looking into the bed of the truck. He opened up the back, removing her bag from the storage unit he had attached in the back. She traded him the bag for Ewok, who growled when he clipped the retractable leash to Ewok's collar and set the dog on the ground.

A few minutes later, he was wandering around a patch of grass while Ewok found the exact perfect place to mark his territory. "Come on!" he exclaimed, as Ewok looked ready to choose a trash can, but kept turning in circles and following some dog's scent to a sapling tree. "Just do your thing so we can go!" He swore the dog began to slow down his movements.

Tim looked up when the door opened, smiling at Lyla, who was storming towards him. "What?" he asked.

"You picked nothing for me to wear. Tim, I haven't worn these in ages." She was wearing a long-sleeved white shirt and a pair of jeans with her Uggs, which he thought looked fine on her, but clearly he was mistaken. "It's winter!" She reached into the bag, taking out a tank top. "You put this in here."

"We might go down south."

"And this?" she hissed, opening up the bag and not removing one of the items he'd tossed in. He felt like being funny, but clearly she didn't find it amusing that he'd tossed in a red teddy he'd located in her underwear drawer while he was packing this morning. "You didn't put in underwear but you put in a teddy!"

"Hey, the fact that you have one of those is news to me," he said, trying to keep a straight face. He laughed when she punched his shoulder. Not very hard, but he made a face. "Ow, that's my bad one."

"Oh I'm…" Lyla paused, about to say sorry when she scowled, her hand on her hips. "That's your left shoulder, your bad one is your right." She slung the bag on her shoulder, pointing at him. "Before we get far, we're going to a mall. A nice mall too."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine."

"And you're buying my coffee too. As payment for drugging me."

"Okay, geez, calm down." He glanced at Ewok who was making eyes at a pretty golden retriever with a pink collar sitting up in the front seat of a car right by them. He rolled his eyes. "Dude, size does matter in your case. She's not going to give you the time of day, look at her." I am talking to a dog, Tim thought, rolling his eyes again. He waited a few more minutes, Ewok finally did his thing, and he grabbed him around the middle, the cockapoo's legs scrambling at the sudden movement. "Come on." They went back to the car and he dropped Ewok in the front seat, waiting for Lyla, who returned with her coffee and his tea. He smiled in thanks, took a sniff and sipped. Perfect. One honey and two lemon packets. He frowned a little. "This isn't…"

"They didn't have any more Earl Grey, so I got you the other black tea."

He shrugged. It was fine. He liked that she remembered what he drank though. He shoved his sunglasses back on. "Okay, let's get the hell out of here."

"There's a mall a few exits up," Lyla said, studying her phone. She glared at him. "We are stopping. You will carry my bags."

"No!"

"You didn't pack properly! We're going to the mall, come on."

"What about Ewok?"

"He'll stay in the car, he'll be fine." Ewok shot her a look that seemed to indicate, at least according to Tim, that he would not be fine. Don't leave anything you like, he thought, when they parked the truck. He cracked the window for Ewok, who was eyeing Lyla's Vanderbilt sweatshirt like he was going to rip it up, pee on it, or barf. Tim hoped she didn't like it that much. They went into the mall, with Lyla leading the way to the nearest department store. He scowled when she began to take outfits off the racks, throwing them into his arms. She removed a sweater dress from a rack, holding it up and wrinkling her nose, turning and holding it against her. "What do you think about this?"

"I'm thinking I don't care." The dress went flying into the pile of clothes he was already holding. Tim rolled his eyes, meandering around with her as she picked up a pair of jeans. He stared at the price tag hanging off the side. "Holy shit, those are like two-hundred bucks."

"They're designer." Lyla pursed her lips at them for a few more minutes, shaking her head. "No, I have two pairs at home. I'll just get regular ones for this trip." She selected what Tim wouldn't have called 'regular' jeans, given that they were about eighty bucks, and set them on the pile. She nodded. "Okay. Now I have to try them on."

"WHAT!?" Tim threw the clothes on top of her and walked off, pulling his phone out to send a text to Jason that this was considered hell. He'd changed his mind from when he had to take Taylor to the doctor. That used to be hell. He fiddled with his phone, pulling up his bank account. He quirked his lip up; the Wilson check had finally cleared, excellent. He'd made a nice little sum on that job.

He continued to work from his phone, finally looking up when he heard bags crinkling as Lyla set them down in front of him. He sighed; it had been awhile since he'd had to carry a girlfriend's bags through the mall. The last time he'd done it, actually, had been Garrity. "Okay," she said, slinging her tote bag over her shoulder. She was still holding her phone. "They have a few stores in the mall I want to check out. Let's go." So much for his plan to reach Nebraska by the evening, if they hustled. He followed her through the mall, as Lyla got a new bag for all her new clothes, stopped into Victoria's Secret, got a new pair of shoes, a pair of hiking boots ("I want to go hiking in the Black Hills", she'd explained), and a cocktail dress.

"We're not going to a party," he'd said. Hell, all he brought with him were three shirts, a couple of changes of boxer briefs, and another pair of jeans. He'd forgotten socks, but figured he'd just turn them inside out. Also, since when had Lyla cared this much about fashion and clothes? She was never like that.

Lyla shrugged. "You never know." She passed him another bag, which he recognized was from a men's clothing store. He lifted an eyebrow. She shrugged again. "You only have like three shirts, so I bought you a couple more things and some more socks, I mean honestly Tim you can't just turn yours inside out."

How did she know about that? She gave him a knowing look. He rolled his eyes; of course, she knew everything with him. "Why not?" He sighed. "Are we done?"

"Did you get a pair of swim trunks? I need a new bikini."

"We're not going to the beach."

"We might, you said it yourself, we might go south." She smiled quickly. "That's what makes this so fun." So they went to another store, where she got him a pair of surf shorts and flip-flops, along with a new bikini and wrap for her. This better be it, Tim thought. He was relieved when they stopped in the food court to get something to eat for the road, and left the mall about half an hour after the last store visit.

They stowed all the bags in the back and he climbed in the front, Ewok jumping out when Lyla opened the door. She took his leash, walking him around for a few minutes before she climbed back into the truck. "Okay," she finally said.

"Are we finally ready?"

"Yes, we're ready." She fed Ewok a French fry from her bag, smiling quickly. He couldn't see her expression through the dark shading of her aviator's. "Let's go." Let's go then, he echoed in his head, driving away. They were about twenty miles down the road when she finally spoke. "I went a little crazy in there. I don't normally shop that much." She sighed, glancing sideways. "I guess I thought if I got a bunch of new clothes I could look like a new person."

I'm not much for psychology, but that makes sense, he thought. He shrugged, his voice quiet. "I think you're a fine person right now Garrity." You don't need to change. But he supposed he understood. He looked sideways again. She was tugging on her hair, studying the ends. He cleared his throat. "I think we can make it to Nebraska by the end of the night."

"Sure." Lyla picked up Ewok again, nuzzling her nose into his neck. She closed her eyes, sighing. "I feel so helpless right now."

It's a bad feeling; it goes away eventually. Not that if he told her that it would help things. He didn't say anything; if she wanted to talk, he'd let her talk, but he wasn't much for it. He glanced sideways again. She had her head against the window, idly stroking Ewok. He was a good little guy, most of the time. Sometimes when he just felt all alone, the teddy bear-like dog would climb up in his chair, sit down in his lap, and just sleep, but Tim would never admit that he never felt alone when the little guy was with him.

You'll be okay, he thought, reaching to pat her hand. She turned hers up, squeezing tightly. He continued to drive, holding her hand. After a few minutes, he turned to look at her. She was fast asleep. He frowned slightly; the sleeping thing…she'd made some comment the night before about sleeping a lot. He wondered if it was something bad. Like maybe she was sick. Beside him, his phone buzzed. He let go of her hand, which fell limply to her side and removed his phone, hitting answer and holding it up to his ear, switching so he could speak quieter, turning his head away from her while still trying to watch the road. "Yeah?" he mumbled.

"I'm trying to run a school and I still have people calling me about your damn business." Tyra, this is not what I need right now, he thought, sighing hard. She dropped her voice slightly. "I'm not getting paid Tim, you might start paying me if I have to broker another deal for you. Speaking of deal, Aiden wants to commission a princess swingset for Delilah."

There is too much going on, Tim thought, seeing names spinning around in his mind. "Fine, I'll do it, but not for a bit. I'm not in Texas right now."

"Where are you?"

"Um, somewhere on I-35 north in Oklahoma."

Very slowly, Tyra drawled. "Why are you on I-35 north in Oklahoma?"

"Oh you know, Garrity and me are going to Mt. Rushmore." And I'll await your protest, Tim thought, puttering along down the road. They were not going to be in Nebraska by nightfall, it was stupid to think they could make it almost clear through Texas and Oklahoma in a day, especially after stopping for a couple of hours at the mall. He tried to say it nonchalantly, but unfortunately he tended to care more about Tyra's opinion than he really wanted. It bugged him that even after almost fifteen years since they'd really met that she could still have an effect on his life. And I know you, Tim thought. I know that you're taking a deep breath because you don't want to yell and you're processing. He pursed his lips, waiting for her to speak, but she didn't, so he decided to continue. "We're on a road trip. I don't know when I'll be back."

"Tim."

"She's not doing well Tyra." He kept his voice low, in case Lyla wasn't really sleeping. He also chose his words carefully. "She…you know she's getting a divorce? He's being a dick. He's messed up her job and…and she's lost and I don't like that. So we're on a road trip." He shrugged. "Plus I want to see the faces in the mountain, it looks cool."

"Tim, do you think this is…"

"Tyra, I'm fine, believe me." He was fine. He was happy. He hadn't had a nightmare in months. Time before that was practically years. Billy and him were good. It was almost like…hell was it almost ten years ago? It was almost like ten years ago never happened. Just from time to time it came up. Usually on accident. Tim glanced at the mile markers. He checked the dashboard clock. It wasn't too late, but he was getting tired. They'd left her house in Austin at like four in the morning.

Tyra snorted. "You had a nightmare like a week ago."

"I had a nightmare like six months ago," he corrected. What the hell was Mindy telling her about him? He rolled his eyes. "I'm fine Tyra. Look, you're in D.C. now, right?"

"I'm in Alexandria, actually."

"Running a school." Tim thought she was a guidance counselor for some massive international school, but he couldn't be sure. Maybe she was principal now. She'd gone to D.C. to get some other degree, but he couldn't remember what it was. Maybe a Master's? It wasn't a doctor diploma.

Tyra laughed. "Wow you really don't pay attention do you Tim? I'm getting a second Master's degree and I am interim vice principal of McMaster Day School in Alexandria. Do you listen to me when I talk to you?"

"Hmm?" He was distracted by Ewok, who was nosing at his leg. He glanced at the clock. They needed to feed him. Hell, we need to feed me. He was still hungry, a pretzel and fries from the food court was not going to tide him over. Tyra swore at him, called him something like an ignorant idiot or something like that. He wasn't sure, because Ewok was starting to whine. "Hey, Tyra, I gotta' let you go. My wookie is hungry."

"You are disgusting, besides, I thought you and Garrity didn't do that anymore?"

He rolled his eyes. No one ever thought he was serious. "Jesus Tyra, no we don't do that anymore and I meant my wookie, my little Ewok, he's hungry. He's whining."

"Oh, I forgot you still had that mop."

"You know he really didn't mean to eat that bag."

"Tim that was a Hermes Birkin bag! It cost like $15,000!"

Lyla and her $200 jeans and Tyra and that damn bag. He rolled his eyes. "Whatever, it was from your ex, wasn't it?" The lawyer, if he remembered right. Entertainment lawyer, he did something with Austin's music scene, he'd bought Tyra anything she'd wanted and more, but she'd dumped him once she realized that that's all he ever wanted was someone to buy pretty things for. She'd kept everything though. Now it was Aiden. Who Tim was fairly certain was going to stick. "Hey, what's going on with Aiden?"

"Aiden's great, I told you, he wants to commission one of those princess bedroom sets for Delilah." Tyra sighed, her voice dropping to a whisper. "It's not been great around here, she now has to have a wheelchair and she's not coping very well with it." Delilah, Aiden's kid, Tim remembered. She had some sort of genetic thing, kind of got worse as she got older. Poor kid.

He nodded, whispering. "I get it on when I get back. Free of charge."

"Tim you have to make money, Aiden will pay for it."

"It's no big deal." Lyla was starting to stir a little. Ewok was still whining. "I really should go Tyra."

"Yeah, fine. Tim…" Tyra trailed off. She groaned. "Please don't do anything stupid. Especially if Lyla's messed up and going through a divorce and shit. It's not a good time to get involved with someone going through a divorce."

You started dating Aiden before his divorce was final and you've been together for like two years, Tim felt like saying, but he held his tongue. He said goodbye and disconnected, tired of Tyra constantly warning him like he would just walk around and do something stupid. Even if there was past reason for her to worry about that sort of thing, he thought, shifting his weight a little.

Beside him, Lyla finally sat up a bit. She wiped at her eyes, looking sideways. "Are we still in Oklahoma?"

"Yeah, I was thinking we stop for the night."

"It's barely three in the afternoon."

"Yeah, well I've been driving since like four in the morning." He yawned, glancing at the side of the road. Oklahoma City wasn't too far. They could stay somewhere downtown. He glanced at her phone. "Pick out a hotel. Somewhere not expensive."

"The Biltmore."

"I said not expensive," he said, as they came to a halt in Oklahoma City rushhour traffic. He glanced at her phone again. She was already fiddling with it, finally lifting it to her ear. He tried to grab it from her, but she smacked his hand away, her eyes and voice lighting up when someone on the other end answered. She made their reservation, hanging up a moment later.

"All done."

Tim grabbed the phone from her. He jabbed his finger into her shoulder. "You're paying for tonight." He had no issue with her paying for anything; if she wanted to waste her money when they could find a perfectly fine motel or hell, camp on the side of the road, then so be it. He'd take full advantage of it.

"I imagine I'll be paying for much of this trip," Lyla drawled, pointing to a street. "Turn here."

"You've been here before?"

"Yes. I had a conference on a chapter of the American Neurologist's Association."

"But you're not a neur…whatever."

"I'm not a neurologist, no, but I am a specialist in pediatric occupational therapy for cognitive motor disorders brought on by severe cervical spinal injuries." She smirked at his eyebrow raise and curious look. "Means people, including neurologists, want to hear what I have to say. Turn up there."

Smarty-pants Garrity, always knew you'd find a way to make it big somehow, Tim thought, turning to where she directed him, finally pulling the truck in front of the fancy hotel. He hated valet, but it was the only option, so he forked over his keys, warned the guy if there was another scratch on the truck, he'd know about it, and went into the hotel with Garrity, who was leading the way. He went into the lobby, finding her at the counter. He walked over to her, leaning on the counter, whispering. "Maybe this isn't a good idea Lyla," he murmured. It was a fancy hotel, who cared? They could get a motel and be on the way tomorrow no problem.

Lyla forked over her credit card, turning and smiling at him. "It's fine Tim," she whispered, patting his hand. She squeezed his wrist lightly, leaning in so only he could hear her, while the clerk ran her card. "Don't worry about forks on the table or whether you're dressed right. This is fun." She took back her card and signed a piece of paper, accepting the keys.

"Your bags will be up in your room momentarily, if you'd like to have a refreshment in the lounge," the clerk said, gesturing towards the bar. The woman smiled quickly. "But unfortunately no pets in the public area."

Lyla lifted up Ewok. "No problem, we'll just go outside and wander around." She looked over her shoulder at a lot of set up going on down the hall from the lobby. "Is there an event tonight?" she asked.

"Yes, we do weddings here. Your room is on the fifth floor, away from the festivities, so hopefully there should be no disturbances to you, but if there are, please call us and we'll compensate you for your trouble," the clerk said, gesturing towards the elevators. "Elevators are down the hall to the right."

What was that maniacal gleam in Lyla's eyes? Tim pushed away from the counter, following her to the elevators. She glanced at the setup for the wedding reception one last time before climbing into the elevator. "What are you thinking?" he asked.

Lyla scratched at Ewok's ears, grinning at him. "It's just something I had in mind. There's a wedding. I could use a night to…" She smiled quickly, whispering. "Let loose."

Tim lifted his eyebrows. "Oh yeah?"

"Live a little Riggins." She went down the hall to their room, turning and dropping Ewok on the bed. He sniffed three circles and fell down into a pile, passing out. She shrugged off her jacket, reaching for the bags that were already sitting on stands near the front. It was a nice room, Tim thought, falling backwards onto a sofa against the wall. He watched, wondering what Lyla was doing as she put all her new clothes into her new suitcase and duffel bag. He squinted when she removed a sparkling shirt and black jeans.

Without saying a word, she stripped in front of him to a pair of lacy black undergarments. He lifted his eyebrow. "You putting on a show? I don't have any ones."

"I'll take twenties."

"You gotta' do a lot more than that for twenties."

Lyla grinned, long and slow, stepping into her pants. She buttoned them quickly, reaching for the top and shrugging it on. She went to the mirror, did some things with her hair and face and stepped into black boots, sitting down to zip them up. "Get dressed."

"I'm dressed."

"No, get dressed." She threw one of the new shirts she'd bought at him, grinning and reaching for her bag. "We're going to a party."

We are, are we? He frowned slightly. Party? There was…wait. He closed his eyes, the realization dawning. Garrity, seriously? "We're going to a party, huh?" he asked. He stood slowly, reaching for the new black button down. He scowled. "Why did you get me a new one?"

"Because your black shirt is now gray. Now put it on please." She turned around when he finished buttoning up the shirt, scowling. She walked over, fiddling with his hair for a moment. "Does it always do this weird comb-over thing?" she grumbled, mussing it with her fingers.

He tried rolling his eyes upward. "It's growing out now."

"You're growing it out?"

"Well I haven't seen you in awhile." Only Lyla cut his hair. Or he did, from time to time, if he thought about it long enough. There was a few years ago when he woke up and kind of went crazy with the razor settings and practically shaved his entire head. He shook his fingers through the mid-length hair, which was kind of going a little crazy now that Lyla had jacked it up. "It's fine, stop touching me."

She brushed her nose over his, whispering against his lips. "Haven't ever heard you say that."

What has gotten into you, he thought, frowning. He stepped backwards, letting go of her. He tapped her nose and glanced at Ewok, who was rolling on the bed, his feet kicking in his sleep. So he'd be fine, he thought, glancing back at Lyla, who was still smiling. There was something up her sleeve, he thought, squinting. "What?"

"You look good, that's all," she murmured, reaching up to her necklace. She undid the clasp and shook off the diamond, holding it up and then shoved it onto her left hand. She reached up for the collar of his shirt, flattening it down a little. "Let's go."

"We're party crashing, huh?"

"That's a rude way of putting it."

"Well how would you put it?"

Lyla smirked, leaning back against the elevator doors as they closed, her arms crossing over her chest. "Taking advantage of an opportunity."

I have been a terrible influence on you, Tim thought, as the doors closed with a loud ding.


	5. Unexpected Stop

**A/N:**Thanks for the reviews! Enjoy :)

* * *

**Chapter 5: Unexpected Stop**

What the hell? Tim slowly opened his eyes, but slammed them shut the second light hit them. "Holy shit," he mumbled, turning into the mattress. He reached for a pillow to shove over his eyes. The pillow bit his hand and barked. Fucking Ewok, he thought, shoving the dog away from him. He turned over a little, staring at the clock. It was ten. Damnit. So much for getting through Nebraska today.

He covered his face with his hand, waiting a moment. What the hell was this hangover? He hadn't had one like this since the great one of 2006. Come to think of it, Garrity was involved in that one as well. She sure as hell could drink. He sat up slowly, groaning in pain. I'm old, he thought. So damn old if I can't even get out of bed without creaking. "Oh God," he bitched, rubbing at the small of his back. He turned to look at Lyla, who was wearing…practically nothing. He frowned, peeking beneath the sheet. Thank God, he thought, sighing in relief. He had on jeans. What happened last night, he wondered, slowly standing. The light coupled with the instant pressure in his head had him stumbling. "Ow!" he yelled, falling backwards onto her.

"Hmmm," Lyla mumbled, hitting him weakly. She coughed a few times, her voice scratchy. "Stop yelling, you're so loud right now." She leaned forward, holding her head between her hands like a vice. "Why do I hear bells?"

"Why does my ass hurt?" Tim slowly got out of the bed again, hobbling to the mirror. He stopped, staring at his reflection. It wasn't so much the marker over his chest that appeared to be a treasure map, or the fact that he had a wedding ring on and he was fairly certain he didn't have that the night before. It was Lyla. "Oh shit."

She lifted her face again. Makeup was smeared all over her face like a melting clown mask. "What?" she whispered. It dawned on her a moment later, as she stared at her reflection. Her eyes widened. Tim looked down at his hands. There were cuts on his fingers. He dropped his gaze to the dresser. His fingers folded around a pair of scissors, lifting them up. Interesting.

The pieces were beginning to come together. Scissors. Cut hands. Lyla. He turned away, as Lyla screamed upon the understanding of what just happened to her, and walked to the bathroom. In the doorway, he just stared at the massacre. There was hair everywhere. Long, dark strands of hair in the bathtub, on the floor, in the trashcan, the sink…he swore that it was like it was growing or had a complete mind of its own. He turned around and hobbled to the bed again.

Lyla was now standing in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection. "Why didn't we realize it was a Greek wedding! They drink at those things!" she yelled, punching him. She turned back around again; her cheeks pink and tears tracking down her cheeks. Her fingers trembled, touching her temples. She moaned. "Look at my hair!"

It wasn't so bad, Tim thought. It was kind of cute actually. It made her look like an elf. "I think that type of hair is in style now," he tried to help, but she just tried to hit him again. He dodged out of the way. "What!?"

"It was your idea you asshole! I remember now!" Lyla tried to hit him again, but Ewok jumped in front of him to defend. She leaned down and picked him up, cuddling him close, staring back at the mirror again. The pixie cut left her entire neck and shoulders bare, but long bangs swept over her face. I'm not half bad at hairstyling, Tim thought, glancing down at his cut hands. He wondered how he'd managed to do so good of a job if he was as drunk as he'd been.

He turned back around to look at the bathroom. Someone was going to have to clean that up. He rubbed at his ass again. "Why does my butt hurt?" he complained.

"Oh relax," she said, scowling. She reached back up to tug at a strand of her hair, as though she were pulling at a wig. She sighed, whispering. "You fell down the stairs. It was just boom, boom, boom all on your tailbone."

"Damn," he yawned, taking Ewok from her. He scratched his ears, studying her reflection. The short hair wasn't bad on her at all. It really made her face stand out, which was not a bad thing for him. He liked her face. It kind of made her look like a dark-haired Tinkerbell. "You look good," he whispered, in all seriousness.

Lyla sighed, resigning herself to the haircut. She shook her head, whispering. "It feels like I…" She smiled slightly, her eyes softening somewhat. Her voice rose, stronger. "Feels like I'm completely different. A new person." She turned quickly, smiling sunnily. "You really like it?"

I'd like anything on you, he thought, smiling quickly. He glanced down at his chest, pointing. "What's this about?"

"I can't remember. I think we were going to hunt for treasure on our adventure."

"And the ring?"

"Taken from some…I don't remember, better leave it just in case." Lyla reached to rake her fingers through her hair, a move that she usually did when she was thinking or nervous, shaking her hair out over her shoulders, but there was nothing to shake out. She whistled low, her eyebrows rising. "I gotta' get used to that." She met his gaze again, serious once more. "We gotta' get out of here."

They cleaned up the room as best as they could, sneaking out with Ewok looking at them like they were crazy. My truck better be okay, Tim thought, taking it from the valet as Lyla passed over another good tip. They went through Starbucks, guzzling about two red-eyes each. He needed the jolt to wake him up and get rid of the lingering hangover, which both of them appeared to be suffering from, as they sat in the truck, wearing sunglasses and holding their heads when they could. A couple of hours later, they were emerging closer to Nebraska. Lyla looked up from her phone. "We may have to stop and let Ewok out, it looks like there's a storm coming through the Plains. Nebraska is going to be an ice sheet."

"We'll be fine." I didn't think this through, Tim thought, glancing sideways. "It say anything about South Dakota?"

"Rapid City is expected to get about two feet of snow on Saturday." She looked up, her voice soft. "Right when we're supposed to be in Keystone."

Shit. They really didn't think this through. We're going to be snowed in somewhere in Nebraska, he thought, releasing a long breath. He was a decent driver, depending on his sobriety at the moment, but he did not have experience driving in snow and wasn't sure the old gal was equipped to be going up and down mountainsides in the stuff. "We'll figure it out as we go," he decided, looking up ahead. At dark clouds. They stopped before they got into Nebraska, so Lyla could buy a beanie to cover her head. "I'm freaking freezing now!" she'd yelled when he wanted to know why. She tugged the red wool cap down around her ears, shivering as she climbed back into the truck. She pointed ahead. "That doesn't look good."

"No it doesn't, so keep quiet." He gripped the steering wheel, trying not to let his nerves show as they drove down the highway, snow beginning to fall lightly and then picking up the farther they got into the state. He held his breath as the truck skidded a couple of times on ice.

There were other cars that had pulled over on the side of the road, including several semi trucks. I'll be fine, he thought, lightly tapping his foot on the accelerator. He downshifted gears, going slowly in the right lane. Lyla swallowed visibly from beside him, shaking her head and whispering. "There's a hotel up ahead. We should stop."

"We'll be fine." No sooner had the words come out of his mouth did the truck start sliding to the right. He cursed, shifting again and turning the wheel into the slide, until he had control again. Okay fine, he thought, glancing ahead through the snow. It was windier than shit, swirling around the truck and rattling at the windows. Ewok whined nervously in Lyla's arms.

They passed the exit Lyla had pointed towards; because he thought there was one up ahead they could make it to, according to her phone. Another hour passed before he finally decided it would be best to wait the storm out. They hadn't said a word to each other in almost two hours. He pulled the truck off the highway, skidding it to a stop in front of a cheap motel. He climbed out, went inside the office and got them a room. He returned, moving the truck to right outside their room, going inside and pushing open the door, a gust of wind and snow flying inside with them. "Damnit," Lyla cursed, hurrying to the heater to turn it on. "I'm freezing."

"It's like twenty below," he said, shivering and closing the door. He peered through the cheap vinyl curtains. "There's a gas station across the street, you want to run over and get food?"

"You run over and get food." She pulled off her beanie and peeled off her North Face, picking up a shivering Ewok and hugging him against her. She looked up, her face pale. "That was scary there for a minute."

"Yeah for like an entire hour." He looked down at his hands, which were shaking. He loosened them a little, his wrists cracking, glancing back at the gas station. Better hit it before they closed. He glanced back at her. "If I'm not back in fifteen minutes, the snow has taken me for its own. I'll be back."

Lyla chuckled. "I'll be waiting with bells on."

Oh I'm sure you will, he thought with a grin, running across the street to the gas station, which had pretty much been picked over. He loaded up on sugar snacks, chips, and a case of beer and some water bottles. They had enough kibble in the car for Ewok, so he didn't need to get anything here, thank God. While the clerk ran the things over the scanner, he glanced out at the swirling snow. "Hey," he said, reaching into his back pocket for some cash. He nodded to the snow. "How long is this supposed to last?"

The teenager shrugged. "Might be tonight, might be a couple days. Forecast is a couple days. Depends."

You just gave me like twenty answers, Tim thought, rolling his eyes and grabbing the things into his arms, running back out and across to the motel. He kicked against the door, freezing his ass off. "Come on!" he yelled, kicking again. "Open up Garrity!"

"Hang on!" She pulled back the door after fighting the chain for a second, stepping back to let him in before closing it and bolting again. "There's like crazy people walking around. We're going to die in this hotel Tim."

"Relax, remember that place in Mexico? We didn't die then."

"Almost died."

Whatever, he remembered it differently than her he guessed. He set everything on the counter, reaching for the beer and cracked one open, taking a long swig. Damn. Needed that, he thought, setting it down and glancing at her, frowning. She was bundled up like an Arctic explorer. Sweatshirt, a beanie, scarf, and fingerless gloves with her jeans shoved into her Uggs. "You cold or something?"

"The heater isn't working, we're going to die here," she said, grabbing a beer from him, rubbing it between her gloves. She cracked it open and hurried to the bed, snuggling beneath the thin sheet and comforter, where Ewok was already waiting. Lyla glared at him. "Front desk says there's nothing they can do, the storm forced so many people off the road that the entire inn is full for the night, so to speak."

"Hey at least you're not a virgin about to give birth," Tim commented.

She rolled her eyes. "That's not the point of the Nativity story Tim. Besides it's not Christmas Eve, so that joke doesn't work. Get in bed."

Well that was quick. "Yes ma'am," he drawled, kicking off his boots. Shit, now he realized what she meant about the heat not working, it was cold in here. He shivered, reaching for a blanket she'd had in the truck, wrapping it around his shoulders and crawling into the bed next to her and Ewok. "Here," he said, reaching over for a couple of Snowballs. "Best I could find."

"These are so full of sugar."

"Eat them or starve." He pulled open a bag of chips, passing a few to Ewok. He reached for the television remote, hitting the power button. Nothing. He pressed it further. Nada. Now he was starting to panic, hitting the button again. His voice grew frantic. "Why isn't this working?" No TV!? How could they survive with no television!?

He flew out of the bed, jabbing his finger into the power button on the cheap TV set. Lyla spoke through a mouthful of Snowball coconut and cake. "It's not working Tim. Neither is the heat, we have to actually speak to pass the time. Come back to bed."

This is not happening, he thought, blowing up a strand of hair. He shook his head, turning around, jumping back a little. The short hair on her still startled him. It was completely covered by her beanie and her face was so drawn and pale. "You look like a cancer patient," he mumbled, returning to the bed. He threw the remote aside for good measure.

Lyla rolled her eyes, passing him some of her Snowball. "This isn't so bad."

"They're okay." He finished off the coconut, making a face. Coconut wasn't his favorite. He slumped down in the bed. So what were they going to do if this thing lasted beyond the night? They could only drink so much beer. He sipped his, taking a moment. He wasn't sure she wanted to talk; he certainly didn't. He glanced sideways. Lyla was staring off at nothing, scratching Ewok's belly as he stretched over her knees. He reached over, lightly touching his fingertips to the top of her hand, which was covered with the wool fingerless gloves.

She looked over at him, her face impassive. "Yes?" she murmured.

"Nothing, just…" He sighed. This wasn't Lyla. The entire last couple days hadn't been Lyla. His voice was quiet. "You're so different."

"I've been different."

"You're reacting differently, I guess."

"I'm reacting the same as always Tim." She rolled her eyes, whispering. "Remember when I quit the cheerleading team? I burned my uniform. I joined a megachurch and became devout, but I dumped my Christian missionary boyfriend and went and screwed you that night. Remember?" Her voice grew harder, angrier. He drew back, surprised. "I didn't get my way because my daddy lost all my money, so I ran off to live with my drunk boyfriend for six weeks. I grew up, I got better, and when my ex-husband decides to be crazy, when my job goes to shit, I sleep with a stranger, get in my ex-boyfriend's truck, and drive off to the middle of nowhere, where I chop off all my hair and am going to freeze to death in a Nebraska fleabag motel." Lyla arched an eyebrow, her voice snotty. "That reacting the same to you Tim?"

She flung back the covers, storming to the bathroom and slamming the door. Tim sighed. Damnit. He fell backwards against the headboard, his arm lifting above his head. Pushed her, he thought. I pushed her too far, too fast. She's having a moment. Just give her a moment. He glanced at Ewok, who was snuggling beneath the covers. Even the dog doesn't want to talk to me. Tim reached for his phone, plugging the charger into the wall and watching the bar go up a couple of percentage points. At least he had games. He continued to lie in bed, staring at the ceiling. It must have been like an hour before he finally got out of bed and went to the bathroom. He didn't bother knocking. He pushed it open, finding Garrity curled up in the bathtub with her blanket.

She looked up, wiping at her eyes with the back of her gloved hand. "I'm a mess," she cried, holding her arms up. "And I thought I was…was over that side of me and I hate that." I know you do baby, he thought, reaching down to lift her up. He held her close for a moment and then lifted her up from beneath her knees. "What are you doing?" she mumbled into his shoulder.

"Will you just be quiet?"

"Okay," her tiny voice said into his ear.

He carried her back to the bed and took off her boots; she had on a pair of thick socks beneath them. He lifted the covers up over her shoulders and kicked off his boots and crawled in beside her, still wearing his jeans. He wrapped his arms tight around her shoulders, pinning her arms to her sides. It was a very weird feeling, but she would be okay in a moment, he thought, as she tried to push him off. "Stop," he ordered. "Just stop."

I've become the king of coping mechanisms for when you're having a breakdown. He'd discovered many nifty little tricks and this was one of them. Feeling cocooned or something. Mindy in her obsession with psychology, told him that it brought you back to your subconscious memories of being in the womb. He thought that was a load of shit. It just felt nice when you were being hugged sometimes. And then there was something with weight, he thought, rolling her slightly so he was mostly on top of her. She'd long since relaxed and seemed to relax further, her breathing regulating. "That's nice," she murmured into the pillow.

"Good," he whispered. He ran his hand over hers, their fingers threading together. He kissed the back of her neck. "You'll be fine, I told you."

"I just had a moment. I'm fine."

"You had a night of moments, Garrity. It led to your hair on the floor of the bathroom." And to you sleeping most of the day away. And to you in a bathtub. He kissed the bare nape of her neck, whispering and smiling. "But I like it. It's hot. Like an elf."

She turned a little to peer up at him, her hand lifting to cup his jaw. "You've said that a couple of times today."

"I don't give compliments Garrity."

"That's true." She swallowed, her throat bobbing. For a moment, Tim wasn't sure what she was going to do, but when she did, he wasn't surprised, closing his eyes as she lifted her lips up, kissing him gently. She broke the kiss a second later, whispering. "Just hold me tonight Tim, please?"

He was about to say of course and lean over to turn out the light, when it blew out on its own. As did the lights in the bathroom and over the table of their snacks. He ran his tongue over his teeth. "Huh." He got out of bed, glancing out the window. The rest of the L-shaped motel was also pitch black. Nice. Guess no one had heat tonight.


	6. Extended Stop

**Chapter 6: Extended Stop**

The power had been out for about ten minutes when Lyla finally spoke, groaning and hitting her feet on the mattress. "This is the worst road trip!"

"Have to agree, it's not starting off how I planned." Not that he'd planned much. Tim rolled onto his back. A moment later, Lyla was stretched out against him. Ewok was down at their feet, beneath the covers, snuffling away. He kissed her lightly. "I'm getting cold."

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"Share body heat," he teased, kissing the side of her neck. He wrapped his arm around her waist, tugging her up to him. She chuckled, turning her head and smiling loosely. They had to keep her mind off of…well anything, he thought. He pursed his lips, thinking for a second. "Wanna' play a game?" he murmured.

"Tim."

"I Never."

"Tim! That's for when you're fifteen and just having your first sip of alcohol at a party," she giggled, but sat up when he scrambled from the bed and went to his bag. Thankfully it had been wrapped up in a couple of flannel shirts and wasn't freezing cold, like the beer now was. He unwrapped the bottle, turning and holding it out for her approval. Lyla's eyes lit up, but she didn't say a word. He returned, opening up the bottle of Jack Daniels. She sniffed, wiping at the back of her nose, which was growing pink from cold. "Okay, now what?"

"Um…I'll go first." He screwed up his face dramatically, like he was really thinking of something that Lyla Garrity didn't know about him. There wasn't much. He shrugged. "I've never…" He glanced sideways. "Been married."

She rolled her eyes, taking a sip of Jack Daniels. She swallowed slowly, glancing down at her fingers. "I never…" She slid her glance to him, crooking her lip up. "Cheated on a test." He rolled his eyes, taking a shot. "Might want to take another, for all the tests you've cheated on," she laughed.

"I never ate peas."

"Never?"

"Hate em'."

She sipped. This was stupid, he thought, but he had an ulterior motive. He ran his tongue over his teeth, waiting for her to speak. Lyla reached to run her fingertips over the back of her neck, frowning slightly. "I never chopped off all my hair," she said, glancing at him. She smirked. "Voluntarily." Tim waited a moment and then sipped, smiling up at her. "Seriously?" she asked. She laughed. "I always thought you cut your hair because of jail or something and just liked how it looked."

That was the thought, when he'd walked between those steel doors, but nope. He shook his head again. "Nope. I shaved it all off once."

"No!"

"Yup." He reached to knock off her beanie, his fingers running through her dark pixie cut. It was really sexy, he thought, but he wouldn't say that to her now. She'd probably take it the wrong way. Hell, he wasn't even sure he knew how he'd intend something like that to come across. He dropped his hand down to hers, twisting her fingers around. He bit his lower lip, whispering. "I never had a kid."

"Taylor doesn't count?" she whispered.

"Not my kid."

Lyla twisted the bottle in her fingers, but didn't move. He frowned, watching her. She hesitated, her face twisting into pain and sadness. She shook her head quickly, swallowing hard, trying to compose herself. Uh-oh, what did I do, he thought, sitting up a little in the bed, and leaning back on his elbow. She glanced sideways again, her voice cracking. "I never told you." Never told me what, he wondered, sitting up on his elbow. He ran his tongue over his teeth, waiting. What did I do, he thought again. I probably messed her up good this time. Shit. He cocked his head, waiting on her to speak. Lyla sniffed, rubbing her nose again. She glanced at him, their eyes meeting for a moment, holding still. Her voice was thick when she spoke, but relatively strong. "I've had two miscarriages."

Holy fucking shit, he thought, sitting up immediately and his eyes widening. What the hell? I really screwed this up. She took a deep breath, laughing a little, breaking eye contact to stare down at her hands. What was he supposed to say? "Garrity," he whispered, squeezing her hands tight. I'm an ass. Should never be allowed to speak. "I'm sorry…it's…it's a stupid game…forget it…"

She was already shaking her head, smiling. "No, don't be, I mean…you should know, you know?" she laughed. She bit her bottom lip, whispering, her eyes lifting back to his. Her voice was breathy, kind of reflective as she stared off over his shoulder. "You were the father one of them." The entire room plunged to silence. Wait…what? His eyes widened. Me? When…when di that happen? Oh God. She nodded quickly, swallowing hard. "February. In high school? Remember when I went to see my mother in California for a week?"

I can't really remember much from last year let alone ten…ten years ago, God…he could have a ten year old by now. His stomach hurt. "Yeah," he whispered, but he wasn't sure. He frowned, his forehead wrinkling. It was giving him a headache, but he didn't care right now. This was…how come she never told him? Jesus, he had a kid at one point. He bit his lower lip, whispering, finally looking up at her again. "You weren't in California?"

"I wasn't…I thought I was having my…you know…" she said, swallowing hard again. It clearly still pained her, even years later. "But I was supposed to go to California to see her anyway for President's Day and so I did and when I got there, I…I knew something was very wrong and my mom and I went to the hospital and…and that's when they told me. I had no idea I was even pregnant, you know? It was so early, but…but they tested everything and did what they had to do and said that I'd be fine and to rest and I'd have kids again, one day." Lyla quirked her lip up, whispering. "I thought I'd done something wrong…I thought I was being punished for…for everything I'd been doing that I thought was wrong the last few years."

Of course you'd think that. Even though you never did anything wrong, he thought, squeezing her hand again. She returned the squeeze, continuing, and her voice a little stronger. "I came back and I just…wanted to be alone, remember?" Yeah, he remembered. He'd thought he'd done something wrong. Billy told him he forgot Valentine's Day, so he'd gone out and gotten her flowers and some new books and candy and felt like an absolute fool when he'd given them to her a week and a half late. She'd burst into tears and they'd never spoken of it again.

Guess her emotional outburst at the time was because of something else. Tim frowned, thinking of something else. "Did your dad ever know?" he asked. He figured he was still alive because Buddy had no idea.

"No," Lyla replied. She chuckled. "No one knew but my mom. She was actually really helpful. I thought she was going to kill me, finding out that I got pregnant with Tim Riggins's baby, my God, think of the scandal, even if she was in California." She smirked. "But it…it wasn't anything anymore and I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want you to think you'd done something wrong."

Always protecting people. That's Garrity. Tim reached up, bringing her down to his face, kissing her lightly. It was over ten years ago. They were in high school and now they weren't. It wasn't worth bringing up again, he thought, kissing her one more time. It wasn't like they could go back and change things, even if his stomach was still twisting at the idea that…well for a few minutes there was a kid of theirs out there. He closed his eyes, focusing on her again. She smoothed her fingertips over his jaw, whispering. "The second one was with Jackson. I knew I was pregnant. I hadn't told him…was it ideal? No. We'd only been married for a few months. It was the same thing again. I was eight weeks and I just started bleeding. Went to the hospital and that was all she wrote."

Jesus. Why, Tim wondered briefly. He never allowed himself to ask the universe things. Ask God things. Pity yourself or anything by asking why it happened to you. He just took everything as it came, he didn't…didn't question why it was him getting the shit end of the stick most of the time or why all his friends could have people take care of them but he had to do it all himself if he wanted something good. But why, he wondered, looking up at Lyla, who was fiddling with her fingers again. Someone so good, so pure, and…and who would probably make the greatest mother in the world. Why? Lyla glanced down at him. As though she were reading his mind, she whispered. "It wasn't their time to be born. Whoever those babies were, it wasn't their time." She slipped back down beside him, folding her fingers beneath her cheek, whispering, and a small smile on her lips. "One day I'll have three kids."

"Three?" That was specific. He smiled slowly, whispering. "You already got their names picked out and everything, huh?" Of course she did.

Lyla nodded smartly. "Yes. I want three kids and I think I want to adopt at least one. Maybe all. Special needs. I've been thinking about it for a long time." She reached to absently tuck hair behind her ear, frowning in frustration when there was none to be had. Gotta' find a new nervous tic Garrity, he thought with an eyebrow lift. She smiled again. "I want one boy and one girl and if I adopt...I'll find one that just…that needs me as much as I need them."

"That sounds nice."

"The boy's name is going to be William. I always liked that name, it's a strong name."

Strong? Hardly. "It's Billy's real name," he reminded her. She rolled her eyes. He grinned. "Just figured I'd let you know."

"Okay, well maybe I'll just call him Liam or something," she laughed. She continued, snuggling closer to him beneath the covers. He reached over and set the Jack Daniels on the nightstand and returned to her. Like they were in high school again, talking beneath the covers about their stupid things, but this wasn't stupid at all, he thought. Lyla wrapped her arms around him, whispering. "And the girl, I want to name her something romantic. Like…" She sighed, breathing and smiling at the same time. "Like Rowena or Evangeline or something like that."

"Pretty."

"And their middle names, my husband can choose them."

He tapped her nose lightly, whispering against her lips. "You got a dad for these kids? If you don't adopt?"

She shrugged. It didn't seem to bother her that she had a plan but no real way to enact it. "I guess," she trailed off, shrugging again, her voice quiet. Her gaze fell from him down to her hands. "I guess I'll just be one of those women who…well if I don't have a husband or anyone by the time I'm forty, I'll go to one of those sperm banks or something." She smiled again, whispering. "Or I'll just adopt all my children."

Or, he thought, biting his tongue…don't do it Tim, he heard a voice say somewhere in the back of his mind. You've gotten into enough trouble so far with Lyla, don't go…oh nope, there it was, already coming out of his mouth before his conscience had a chance to scream at him to stop one more time. "Maybe we can have a kid," he said. Oh shit. No sooner did he say it did Lyla's eyes widen to about the size of dinner plates and he slammed his shut, cringing. It sounded fine in my head, he thought briefly, opening his eyes to see her pull back slightly, but…she was frowning, her lips pursed. For a brief moment, Tim thought she was going to get out of the bed and start yelling at him or something. Instead, she leaned in, her forehead touching his. Okay, now what?

He cleared his throat, backtracking slightly. "Ah, what I meant was…I mean…you…you've got the ring and stuff, so…" So if maybe we decide to go for it, we can…you know, he tried to say, frowning and thinking of the words, but nothing was working.

Further surprising him, Lyla suddenly broke into a smile. No, not a smile, he thought, his eyebrows lifting in surprise, a full on grin. One he hadn't seen in awhile. "I think," she whispered, touching her fingertips to his lips when he tried to interrupt. He stilled, waiting. She smiled again, her nose brushing his. "I think that if…if we can figure it out and be on the same page, that having a kid together wouldn't be so bad."

No, it wouldn't, he thought, frowning a little. "I don't want to be your second choice," he said. If we're going to do this…we're going to do it. Full on everything. Wedding, marriage, kid, the whole thing. I'm not going to be the one guy because you can't find someone else, he thought, frowning a little more.

She seemed to sense it, leaning back in to kiss him lightly. "I love you Tim. But right now…" she seemed pained. Her forehead wrinkled. "It's not the time. For…for us yet."

No. No it wasn't the time. He agreed with her there. One day it will be, he thought, reaching to the ring around her neck, twirling it around his pinkie. Her finger came out, wrapping around his pinkie, the ring still on it. "What?" he whispered.

Ewok snuffled between them, distracting her for a moment. She glanced back up, smiling quickly. "One day."

One day, he agreed silently. He lay still for a few more minutes; her eyes fell closed and her breathing evened out. He swallowed hard, still thinking about what she'd said earlier. Why didn't you tell me, he wondered, watching her sleep. He sighed, his head against hers, hugging her tight in the cold room. After a brief moment, his hand fell down to her stomach, lifting up underneath the many layers she had on, pressing against her warm skin. She shivered; her eyes fluttering open, staring at him. He swallowed nervously again, his fingers spreading out over her abdomen. "I would have been there," he whispered, focused completely on her. I don't need to explain what that means, he thought briefly, when she frowned slightly. He repeated himself, his voice breathy. "I would have been there."

She nodded again, her hand covering his. "I know," she said. She swallowed hard, her lips bright pink after she finished nibbling on them. She smiled briefly. "I love you."

You're my best friend, he felt like saying, his arms going back around her again, kissing her shoulder. She nuzzled her nose into his chest, falling back asleep. Tim remained awake, staring up at the ceiling. It was freezing cold and he could hear the wind swirling around outside, rattling the cheap windows. After the night before, which neither could remember, he thought this one he would remember for a long time.


	7. First Destination

**A/N:**Thank you for the reviews! :) They are greatly appreciated. I hope people are enjoying this story.

* * *

**Chapter 7: First Destination**

"Almost there," Lyla announced, looking up from her phone. She peered out the window, smiling up at the snow-covered hills. The sun was beaming down on everything, but it hadn't been disturbed by anyone yet. "This is so beautiful."

It was pretty, he had to admit, but he wasn't one to voice his approval of things in flowery language. "I hate driving in these hills," he complained, shifting gears again as they went up a rather steep incline. At least for old Betsy. Shit, it got really cold, what the…he glanced sideways. Lyla had her head out the open window, letting in the freezing cold air. "Hey! You're letting out the heat and you're freaking out Ewok."

The cockapoo was staring at Lyla like she'd grown two heads. She reached over and idly scratched his ears. "He's probably confused, because I'm the one acting like a dog, but I want to get a good shot…ooh! Pull over!"

They rounded a corner and right in front of them, with nothing blocking the view, was Mt. Rushmore. Tim pulled the truck over behind a car with California plates, smiling as Lyla climbed out of the truck and held her camera aloft, taking several shots. She climbed back inside, grinning. "Got what you wanted?" he asked, laughing, even as she took a few more pictures from inside the cab. He smiled, putting the truck back into gear. "We aren't even there yet, you'll get more."

"Oh I want more."

I can do so much with that statement, he thought, following the road, which had been plowed, thankfully, and emerged up at the main gates for the park. He forked over some money for the admission fee, following the road up to the parking garage. Once they parked, they climbed out, and Lyla attached a leash to Ewok's collar, hopping out of the cab.

This was beautiful, Tim thought; it wasn't Texas. Nothing beat Texas, but it was still really pretty. "Why do they call it the Black Hills?" he wondered, as Lyla linked her arm through his, both of them walking slowly up the granite staircase towards the monument. He didn't see anything that would make them black. Right now they were covered in snow.

"The trees," Lyla said. She looked up, smiling. The black hat and scarf she was wearing made her pale face and bright red lips stand out more. Like a shorthaired Snow White. She threaded her gloved fingers into his bare ones, walking slowly at his side. "It's the trees. When the snow melts off, they're so dense that it looks black. The Black Hills. Some of them didn't get snow, we'll see it as we drive off to Minnesota."

"When are we going to Minnesota?" he asked, chuckling as they stopped before the long walkway of flags and pillars, framing the way to the viewing area. He looked up at the mountain; it looked so…well it seemed smaller than he thought it would be. Farther away.

Lyla tugged at his arm, leading him to the flags, peering around each pillar and looking at the engravings of each state's name. "We're not going to Minnesota. We're going to the Badlands after this and then we're going to go to Chicago."

"Seriously?"

"Yes. I want to go, I've never been."

Think I might know some people in Chicago, Tim thought, thinking briefly of Matt and Julie Saracen. He'd call Tyra; get their number. Maybe they could all hang out or something. They'd be going through Wisconsin, when they dropped down to Chicago. He snapped his fingers at her. "We can stop in Green Bay on the way."

"Why would we do that?"

"I want a Cheesehead."

"But you hate Green Bay."

"I still want a Cheesehead. I'll give it to Stevie or something." He let go of her arm, holding onto Ewok's leash. He frowned. "What are you looking for?"

Lyla didn't answer, moving around another pillar. "Aha!" she exclaimed, jumping up and down, clapping her hands. She removed her camera. "Come here." She snapped a photo of the pillar. She pointed to it, smiling. "Stand by this."

Ugh, he thought, walking over and dragging Ewok with him, who was busy sniffing the ground. He glanced at the pillar, smiling at the Texas engraving. "Ah, my favorite state."

"I'm taking a picture. Get used to it, we're documenting our adventures." Lyla held her camera up, grinning. "Smile."

He stuck his tongue out. She scowled, but took a picture anyway. To be nice, he smiled politely and she took another picture. He reached for the camera, studying the image. He always hated photographs of him; he looked like a total idiot. "Hate it," he decided, searching for a trash button or something. "How do I get rid of this?" Her Nikon looked like it had about a thousand different buttons and switches that could get him to Mars and back, but not delete the photograph.

"You're not getting rid of it, you look adorable."

"I am not adorable." Lyla tugged at his gray beanie, which he pulled low over his ears, scowling at her. "I'm cold."

"You look cute. We match."

"Yes, because I want to match with a girl. Where are we going now?" he grumbled, letting Ewok lead the way. He followed her down the pathway to the viewing area. Wow. It was really big now, up close. He peered up, smiling a little. Pretty cool.

Lyla took some more pictures and handed him the camera. "Take a picture of me." He did as she asked, studying her image in the small viewfinder. She seemed tiny to him, against the backdrop of the massive sculpture in the hillside. He took a couple more of her and then passed the camera back. She wrapped her arm around his waist, holding her hand up. "Smile."

"What are you doing?"

"Selfie." What, he wondered, but leaned his head against hers, looking up at the camera. The flash went off, practically blinding him. Lyla lowered the camera, glancing at the image, frowning. "Damn, we lost half of George's head. Hang on, let's do this again…"

"Would you like us to take a photo of you?" an older woman asked, breaking away from her husband and walking over, holding out her hand for the camera. She smiled warmly. "Are you guys newlyweds? You look so young! Just like my husband and I after we got married." She wiggled her ring finger. "Forty years now."

"Oh," Lyla laughed. She shook her head, but offered the camera to the older woman. "No, we're…"

This was a bit of an opportunity, he thought with a quick smile, his arm tightening around her waist. "We've been married for ten years now," he said, looking down at her with a quick eyebrow raise. "Got married right out of high school. We've known each other since we were five, right Garrity?"

She scowled, but forced a smile. "Sure. Of course." She turned her head to the woman, beaming. The sudden turn around startled Tim. "Ten years." The smile fell a little. She seemed to be speaking more from the truth now. "And somehow I'm still alive."

The woman laughed, shaking her head and holding up the camera. "Oh we all go through those moments. Smile!" They both flashed a smile and the woman took a couple more pictures for them, Lyla taking the camera back with a thanks. Tim let go of the leash for a bit, since there weren't many people around, giving Ewok free reign to yellow as much snow as he wanted.

He finally picked him up when Ewok decided he wanted to take a nap in a giant pile of snow pushed aside from a plow, carting him off as Lyla took some more pictures of some inane things. Leaves and rocks and stuff. "We can't go hiking down the trail," he said, pointing to the blocked off sign. "Too much snow."

"Well my boots are getting a workout anyway. They'll get more when we go to the Badlands."

"What are the Badlands?"

"You'll see. It's like Mars on Earth." They left Mt. Rushmore with one last photo and Lyla had to get a Christmas ornament for her collection, she said. They grabbed coffee from a shop in Keystone and made their way through Rapid City, which was a dump, if you asked him. Tim drove quickly on I-90, finally pulling off to the Badlands, whatever that was.

Turned out it was freaking awesome. It was colder than hell, but he got more photos like he was on Mars, with Lyla snapping pictures of him pretending to be dead with Ewok biting his throat and pictures of Ewok tromping through red dirt, like an actual creature from Star Wars. "That was so cool! It was like Tattoonie!" he exclaimed, when they finally drove away.

"How do you know that?"

He smirked; he wasn't really big into sci-fi stuff of fantasy worlds, but Taylor Cafferty had become one of the biggest nerds in the world. She'd named her dog Ewok, for crying out loud. "Taylor. I think I've seen it twenty times because of that kid. It's not half bad."

"You're a geek," Lyla laughed. She tugged off her gloves and her beanie, scowling at her reflection in the side mirror. She reached up to fiddle with an earring, picking up her laptop from her bag and removed a cable, attaching it to her camera. "Okay, let's take a peek at these photos…"

"No, put them away."

"Why?"

Tim reached over and shut her laptop, smiling quickly. "Because you'll start to judge them, just pretend they're not there. Look at them when this whole thing is over." He looked out at the open road, his sunglasses on and pushed up on his nose. "This was a fun day." Freezing cold, but overall a fun day. He reached down to scratch Ewok's head. "Even the mop had fun."

"He did, didn't he?" Lyla kissed Ewok's head, nuzzling him. "And so did I."

Good, he thought, smiling at her again. She'd smiled more today than she had the last few days. "See," he murmured, reaching to squeeze her wrist. His fingers threaded into hers, settled between them. "Told you this would be fun."

She squinted. "I don't think you ever said such a thing."

"Yes I did, before we left, I said I had a plan and it would be fun." At least, he thought he said that. He couldn't remember. It didn't really sound like something he'd say, but maybe he was a good mood when he said them. He shrugged. "Onward to Green Bay."

"Chicago."

"With a stop in Green Bay." He reached for her cell phone, glancing at the little car moving on the map. Damn, that was a detour. He just wanted to drive on I-90. He sighed. Fine, no Green Bay. He nodded to her phone. "We can be there by Tuesday."

"Provided there aren't any more snowstorms, but it seems like clear sailing," Lyla drawled. She tapped her phone, lifting her head up to say something when the phone went off. She glanced at the caller ID. And her hand folded tightly around it, her face going paler than it already was.

Tim glanced at the screen. Jackson. "Give it to me," he whispered, reaching for the phone.

"No, Tim, don't," she warned, holding up her finger. She scowled at him, holding the phone to her ear. Her voice was muffled against the mouthpiece. "Hello?" I'm going to kill him, he thought, stealing a glance at her. He scowled further, watching as her brow wrinkled in concern and her eyes narrowed. Her hand curled into a fist, her knuckles going white. "Why are you calling me?" she demanded. "You're not supposed to contact me."

Tim felt Ewok tense beside him, keying into Lyla's simmering anger. He reached over to lightly touch Ewok's head, but it didn't calm down the dog, which was shivering. It's all right, he thought, but he felt as much anger as Ewok was probably feeling. He listened in as Lyla snapped at something her ex was saying. Until finally she sighed, shaking her head and whispering. "You know Jackson, you used to love me. If you still do, please don't do this. You can communicate with me via my attorney. Until then, I have nothing further to say to you. Goodbye." She hung up, tossing her phone into the top of her tote bag, which was sitting at her feet.

He gripped the wheel tightly, waiting a few minutes. He finally glanced sideways, whispering. "Are you okay?"

Lyla nodded. Until she was shaking her head, clearly disgusted. "No, no I'm not okay." She shook her head, laughing and hitting it back against the window. "I am just…we had a deal, you know? I had a deal with him! We went to counseling because I wanted to work on our marriage. We went to Belize, because I wanted to get away to work on our marriage. I mean, I spent a freaking year working on our marriage and he was the one that said he wanted to finally end things, so I went and got the papers and…" She wiped at her eyes, but she wasn't crying. Tim thought she sounded more angry than sad. "And we used to love each other! We married each other because we loved each other and wanted to spend our lives together and this is what he does? Manipulation? Lying to my employer? I'm going to end him."

Not if I don't end him first, Tim thought, sliding his gaze to her again. He returned it to the road, which was kind of pointless, because South Dakota outside of Rapid City was pretty damn flat and there was no one on the road anyway. He shrugged. "Well at least you have a plan."

"If he wants a divorce, I'll give him a divorce. I know that he lied on his student loan applications to get a better interest rate and I know that he wanted a divorce partially because his ex-girlfriend had moved back to Stanford and he wanted another shot, so this whole, I spurned him thing is total shit." Lyla reached for her phone, mumbling about how she was going to call her attorney.

This isn't you Garrity, he thought, reaching for her phone when she held it up. "Stop," he murmured. He took the phone, shoving it into the side pocket on his door. He glanced at her scowl. "You're gonna' regret it."

"And you don't regret punching out Billy when you got so angry with him?"

Well, no, not really, but that was different. That wasn't going to get entered into some courtroom book or something. Tim sighed hard, holding his hand up from the steering wheel in his defense. "Garrity, I'm just saying that you are mad right now. You're steaming and the worst thing to do is make a decision about something when you're running on emotion. Trust me, I mean…hell I decided to do something like that on emotion and I went to jail for a year because of it."

"But that was a good thing in the long run."

Maybe it was a good thing in the long run, but it brought a hell of a lot of pain in its wake. He wouldn't go through it again if you paid him, even if he wouldn't change it for the world. "I wouldn't recommend it," he finally decided to say, glancing sideways again. She was staring at him, no expression on her face. He sighed hard, whispering. "Garrity you're still messed up from it, okay? Your job is…not going good right now and he's messing with you. Hell, you cut off all your hair!"

She jabbed her finger at him. "You cut off my hair!"

"Because you told me to do it!" He had bits and flashes from that night; she'd been egging him on and he'd just grabbed the scissors and cut. It went downhill from there.

Lyla sighed. "We've already gone through this," she scowled, crossing her arms over her chest. She pushed her sunglasses farther on her nose, scanning the plains in front of them. She sighed again, whispering. "I loved him, Tim. I married him. Now he hates me so much he's trying to ruin my life…and all I ever did was love him."

Something twisted in his stomach. She seemed so down. It made him sick, to see her so upset. It always had been upsetting when she was upset, but this was…hell this was really messed up. Tim wasn't sure he was the greatest person in the world to try to cheer her up, but then…well he sometimes thought he was the only person in the world who could help her.

He reached up to tug at the beanie he was wearing. It was freezing. He pushed his sunglasses farther on his nose, his wrist draped over the steering wheel. They didn't say anything for a long time, until he finally reached over and squeezed her wrist, comforting.

She turned his hand over in hers, smoothing her fingers over his knuckles. "You hurt your hand again," she murmured.

Not so bad this time, it was just a sprain. Tim kept driving, while she began to massage out his hand, popping knuckles and stretching out the tendons. He didn't mind, because he knew that she liked to do it. Even if it always felt tingly and kind of like his hand was floating afterward. He glanced sideways again, watching her briefly. He swallowed hard, whispering. "When that lady thought we were married…you didn't seem mad when I played into it."

Lyla looked up from his hand, staring straight out the windshield for a moment. She shrugged. "I guess sometimes I feel like we've been married. I mean…" She chuckled, pushing her sunglasses up on her forehead, looking at him again. She smiled, her eyes crinkling in the corners. "We've known each other longer than I think I've known anyone else in my life except for Jason, but…but we've been closer than me and Jason and…and I don't know. It just seemed like all it was…was putting a label on what we already have."

Except we sleep with other people, don't live together, aren't really married, and you still are technically married to someone in another state. That was exactly like real marriages, he thought, frowning slightly. He frowned a little, shifting in his seat. This might hurt Garrity, but I kind of want to hear it. He swallowed hard. "What…um…I mean, why…" He sighed. This wasn't going so well. "So why did you…"

Thankfully they were on the same wavelength. Most of the time. "Why did I marry Jackson?" she supplied. Lyla chuckled, letting go of his hand, patting it down to his knee. She shrugged, reaching for Ewok, who was fast asleep, and draped him across her knees. She waited a beat and then shrugged again. "I don't know. I mean…I loved him. He proposed…I thought that it was just something that would be good. I wanted it. I wanted to be married, I wanted to marry him, and…and was I really young? Yeah. Did I want to be like my parents, married when I was like twenty? No, but…but it all worked out in the long run and I just…" She swallowed hard, closing her eyes and reaching her fingertips to her temple, whispering. "I wanted it because it was something…good and different and then now I find out it was just…" She sighed, resigning herself to it. "He was different. Jackson that I married three years ago wouldn't be doing this."

He wondered why though. It wasn't like they had plans or anything. After she left, after the State game at Christmas, they'd stayed in touch. When she graduated Vanderbilt, he flew up with Buddy. She'd gone to California and that had been it. He'd heard that she'd met Jackson Thorne one of her first days and so be it. She'd been with him, she'd gotten married, and…and that was it. They still had talked occasionally and saw each other at holidays, but it wasn't until after she'd come back to Austin did they really…really kind of find each other.

Except we didn't. He glanced at the ring, rising and falling slowly on her chest. He bit his lower lip. The ring was a promise. One day. Just not yet. They weren't ready yet, she'd told him. When though, he wondered. He reached for her phone, turning it on and glancing at the GPS feature that came up after he turned it back on. Hell, they had like eleven hours until they reached Chicago.

How will we pass the time, he wondered, glancing sideways at her again. She was awake, her head on the window, staring out at the fields. Nothing. He swallowed hard. They weren't married, but it felt like they were. Jackson Thorne stood in the way of that. He'd really messed her up. Tim reached for the phone again, his thumb moving slowly over the screen, trying to drive and send the contact to his phone. He felt it buzz in his coat pocket.

Jackson Thorne, he thought idly, setting her phone back into the side pocket of the door again. He cleared his throat loudly. "So I was thinking we should stop in a couple hours, maybe get a drink or something."

"Sounds nice." Lyla sat up again, twirling her ring around on her chain. She leaned against him, her head resting against his shoulder and her hands folded in Ewok's curly fur. She closed her eyes, her nostrils flaring with a long, escaping breath.

Tim touched his head to hers, even if it was a little uncomfortable while driving. He wrapped his hand into hers and their fingers entwining. I just want to help you, he thought. The way you helped me. He didn't know what he was doing on that doorstep in Nashville. Just that about a month later he'd looked at his reflection in the mirror and realized that he didn't hate what he saw. He frowned down at her. I bet, Garrity, if you look in the mirror, you hate what you see.

I'll just make sure by the end of this trip, wherever it takes us, you don't hate yourself, he decided. He drew back up a little, slowly releasing a long breath. He thought of the phone number now sitting in his phone. Jackson Thorne. Well, he was going to have a long chat with Jackson Thorne.


	8. Second Destination

**A/N:**Thanks for the reviews :) Hope people are still reading/enjoying. Thanks!

* * *

**Chapter 8: Second Destination**

"Oh my God! I can't believe your hair! It looks so cool!" Julie exclaimed, reaching to try to touch Lyla's cap of dark hair. They'd stopped outside of Chicago at a hair salon, where she'd gotten some of the more jagged ends touched up and the poor hairstylist who had to make do with little had somehow made it a bit sleeker, but the bangs were still kind of messy over her forehead.

Matt glanced up at Tim, his arms crossed over his chest. There were paint streaks from his fingertips to his forearms. As men, they didn't have to hug and gush over each other, even if it had been several years since Tim had seen him. Since Lorraine died and his mother had moved to Louisiana, Matt had no reason to return to Dillon and well, Tim had no reason to come to Chicago. "They could go on awhile, you want a beer?"

After driving through Chicago rush hour traffic? "Hell yes," he croaked, reaching his fingertips down to snap his fingers at his knee. "Come on Ewok." The dog barked from where he'd been sniffing at a pot of flowers at the footsteps of Matt and Julie's row home in the Hyde Park neighborhood of Chicago. Tim glanced up at the fancy house, turning to look over his shoulder at the other row of homes. It might be rude to ask about finances, but he didn't really care. It was massive. "How the hell can you afford this?" he asked, looking up at the wide entryway. He stopped to study the crown moldings; he had to fix the ones in his house. These looked decent.

"I sold a painting and Julie got a book advance or something." Matt rolled his eyes, and his cheeks flushed, obviously embarrassed by the opulence of the homes around theirs. He shrugged, mumbling and glancing down at his paint-stained boots. "It's the smallest on the block, we got it in foreclosure…"

I stepped in it, Tim thought, smiling quickly to help alleviate Matt's embarrassment. "Hey, at least you got a roof over your head, right?" He took the beer from Matt, clinking the longnecks together. "No regrets."

"Cheers," Matt said, taking a long pull. He looked over Tim's shoulder at Julie and Lyla, who were sitting in the living room, Ewok darting around with the Saracens' chocolate lab, who Tim had heard Julie call Homer. He swallowed his sip of beer, gesturing towards a door off of the kitchen. "Come on, I'll show you to my man cave, as Julie calls it."

"What the hell is a man cave?"

"When you get married one day Riggins, you'll know."

How is it that I don't know something that Saracen does? Tim followed him down a set of steps through a garage and outside to a small backyard with a shed in the corner. Matt unlocked the door, pushing it up like a garage door, revealing…what Tim figured a man cave would be. Flatscreen, couch, chair, fridge…nice. "I could get used to this," he decided, flopping back onto the couch, finally off his feet after driving forever. He closed his eyes, tilting his beer back, sipping for a moment. Nice. Really…relaxing, he sighed, finally opening his eyes and glancing at Matt, who was frowning at him from the chair. "What?" he asked.

Matt shook his head, laughing. "You could let Lyla drive you know."

"Um, no I can't," he said, grinning. He shook his head, sighing and closing his eyes. "She's a bad driver."

"Lyla? I wouldn't think that."

"She gets distracted, it's annoying." He didn't want to talk about Lyla's driving habits. She just wasn't great with his truck and he didn't feel like having to find a garage somewhere along the route from wherever they were going to wherever they were coming from to get the transmission fixed after she ruined it with her constant shifting gears. Tim reached up to tug off the beanie he'd been wearing the last couple of days, raking his fingers through his hair and forcing it to stand up. "It's just been…enlightening." For lack of a better word.

Matt glanced over as Homer wandered in, the lab falling down at his feet. He leaned over, scratching the lab's throat. "So how is it going with her? I heard uh, I mean…Julie mentioned…" He sighed, spitting it out. He frowned. "She's getting a divorce? I didn't know she was married."

It seemed like not many people did know she was married, which Tim found a bit…odd. Buddy hadn't made a giant deal of it, like he thought he might, but…lately Tim had gotten the impression that Buddy wanted him back together with Lyla. Which was just enough to make hell freeze over in Tim's opinion. He shrugged. He didn't want to get too into Lyla's personal business with someone else. "She's getting a divorce. Married the guy three years ago, it was supposed to be quick and dirty, but…" He sighed. "He's protesting. So…so we're on a road trip. She kind of went off the deep end."

So he told Matt what happened, in so many words. About Jackson protesting the dissolution and wanting a divorce. About the call-in to Lyla's work about her abusing her privilege and stuff. All he left out was that Lyla had gone off and slept with some random dude, who really sent her into a tailspin, but Matt was a smart guy. Seeing Lyla Garrity with her hair all chopped off the way it was, was probably enough of a light bulb for him to figure that she wasn't all there right now. He leaned back into the couch cushions, closing his eyes again, speaking quietly. "So we're on a road trip. Went to Mt. Rushmore."

"Oh yeah? Was that cool?"

"It was kind of… Tim wrinkled his nose, shrugging. "It was just a mountainside thing. Cool, but for the trouble it took to get there." He looked up when footsteps echoed on the steps leading down from the back porch. He reached his hand up, smiling and drawling at the sight of Lyla. "Hey there Miss Lyla."

Lyla took his hand, holding it in hers and bouncing it up and down, holding a bottle of beer in her free hand. She grinned, the sunlight beaming off her pale features. "Matt, this house is so gorgeous. Your paintings are beautiful, I will have to buy one before we leave."

Aw man, he knew she was going to do that. "Garrity, we're starting to fill up the back of the truck with crap already, it doesn't need more," he complained.

"You hush, I want one of his paintings." She sat on the edge of the couch, still holding his hand loosely in hers. Matt glanced at their hands, smirked, and then returned his gaze to Lyla, who was asking him about what types of oil paints he used or something. Tim tuned her out, thinking of the phone number in his pocket. He licked his lips, letting go of her hand carefully and stood up.

He disappeared up to the house, wondering where their bags, which were in the front all a moment ago, now were. He shook his head slightly, removing his phone and sneaking upstairs, finding an empty bedroom. He closed the door, sitting on the edge of a brightly pattered quilted four-post bed, drawing up the phone number. Shit. I am going to get into so much trouble for this. He'd held off the last couple of days as they drove through Minnesota and Wisconsin and finally dropped into Illinois this morning. He'd told Garrity to hold off on doing anything she might regret in a wave of emotion and as far as she knew, she hadn't called Jackson or anyone since he'd called her while they were in South Dakota.

He ran his hand over his mouth, taking a deep breath. "Just do it," he mumbled, hitting his thumb against the contact.

It rang a few times, until it finally went to voicemail. "You've reached Dr. Jackson Thorne, I cannot come to the phone right now. Leave your name and number." The guy's voice sounded stressed.

Tim stood up, walking to the window and peering out into the backyard; Lyla was laughing at something Matt was saying, the two of them sitting on the deck, porch, whatever it was. He cleared his throat at the beep. "Dr. Thorne," he drawled. "This is Tim Riggins. Call me back. I have something to discuss with you. It's a pain in my ass. I think it goes by the name…" He smiled quickly. "Jackson Thorne." He hung up, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You know that's not going to help."

"Shit!" he cursed, jumping and spinning around, leaning against the window. Julie was stepping out from another door. How did she hear him? He squinted. "I closed the door."

She pointed through the bathroom to another room, the door open. "Jack and Jill bathroom, I could hear you from my office." Julie tucked her hair behind her ear. It was a darker blonde than he remembered, pulled back in a ponytail. She seemed like the same coach's daughter that he remembered, except maybe her clothes were a little fancier. She swayed lightly on her feet, smiling knowingly. She lifted her chin up. "You guys planning on staying awhile?"

"Few days, don't mean to…to stay forever," he answered. What did you hear, he wondered. He squinted. "We're not…you know…" He laughed nervously. Why the hell was he nervous? Julie was just staring him down, smiling a little, and saying nothing. It kind of made him feel like Mrs. Taylor was glaring at him about his homework or something. He shifted again, shrugging off his coat and throwing it onto the bed, holding his hands out. "We're not together, you know." He shifted his weight on his boots again, glancing to the window, shaking his head. "I told you, we're not together. We're friends."

"Nice ring she's wearing."

"The chain broke this morning, she's got it on her finger so she doesn't lose it."

"Black diamonds are very rare," Julie continued, swaying again. She smiled, her lips pursing. It came off as very…know-it-all-like, Tim thought, scowling. "Where did you find it?"

Standard answer, he thought; just give the standard answer. "Hole in the wall in Santa Fe." That was a lie. He'd told Lyla he got the ring in a junk shop, which had just been there and he'd found it. It was only partially the truth. It was an antique jewelry store. Tyra was trolling for costume jewelry to wear to some Halloween-type of event and he'd been with her, just bored out of his mind. Until he saw the ring. It had Lyla written all over it. He didn't have a reason to buy it for her, just…just in case, he'd thought. And then they'd fallen back into bed at a fourth of July thing and hell; he'd brought out the ring. Ewok had carried it to her in his mouth, just to make it seem like a gag gift. Lyla still didn't know how much it had cost. She would never know how much. Tim shook his head again, blowing it off like nothing. "It's just a ring Julie."

"And she's just a friend," Julie drawled sarcastically, rolling her eyes and stepping backwards to the door. She pointed at him, wiggling her finger around. "You are a liar. Lyla Garrity is getting a divorce and she's wearing an engagement ring on her finger from you and you're calling her ex-husband and threatening him." She shook her head, drawing back her shoulders. "That is not a good idea Tim. It won't end well."

I have been in this house for five minutes and I'm getting a Taylor shrink session. Jesus. We aren't even in Philadelphia yet! Which was next on the list, but he had about a week to prepare for that shrink fest. "You're not your mom," he said, sliding by her out the door. He turned around, frowning at her furrowed look. He swallowed hard. That was a little…mean, but…hell it needed to be said. "We'll be out of your hair in a couple days, but…I don't need you telling me what to do with her, okay Julie?"

Julie squinted. She shook her head, whispering. "You know, I was so angry at you." What? He stopped in the middle of the hallway, turning around and sighing. Julie came into the hall, leaning against the doorway, her ankles crossing. She scowled. "What was it? Like eight years ago? Yeah, it was eight years ago because Matt and I had just gotten engaged. Tyra was falling all over you again like it was sophomore year of high school. I was pissed at you. Your little Jesus act was going to bring my best friend back down to a place she didn't want to be. I was so happy when she left Dillon and when she dumped your ass for once and for all a year later."

Well this was just lovely, Tim thought, his face blank. I don't need to stand here and listen to Julie Taylor relive the past. Especially if it meant trashing him in the process. "You done?" he murmured. Because when Tyra left I went to another dark place and it was the woman standing outside with your husband, he felt like saying, that helped me back out of it again.

"No, I'm not done," Julie whispered. "You're going to stay here, that's fine. You're a friend and you're Matt's friend and somehow we've all kind of grown up together, but you were never close to us, so I feel like I can say this without ruining any sort of relationship we may have, but…" Julie trailed off, walking towards him and pushed at his shoulder, scowling angrily. She tucked her hair behind her ear again. "Lyla Garrity is a better match for you than Tyra Collette ever was, so I'm glad that she's in your sights and not Tyra, but Tim, she's going through a divorce and she's messed up and sisterhood being what it is and all, don't go too far with her and by going after her ex-husband, you're just going to make it worse."

Have you talked to Tyra, he wondered. This was exactly what she was telling him earlier in the week. He shifted, frowning deeper. I'm going to get a headache, he thought, but he hung on Julie's words. Julie sighed hard, shaking her head and whispering. "I want you guys to work out, but you've been here like an hour and I just wanted to say what I wanted to say." She paused, her eyebrows lifting and eyes widening slightly. "Go after Lyla Garrity, but if you really want her and trust me, I want you guys to work out, but right now is not a great time." Julie pursed her lips, waiting a moment. Now what, Tim thought, lifting his eyebrow, waiting for another tirade from her. "That's all I have to say and if you go to Philadelphia, it's going to be a lot worse from my mother when she gets wind of this, so there."

Yeah, no shit, Tim thought, shaking his head slightly. He leaned against the banister, his arm around the newel post at the top of the staircase. "Are you done?" he asked, frowning.

"Yes."

"Good." He waited a moment, but Julie didn't move. Fine. My turn. "Garrity is my best friend," he whispered. He shrugged his shoulders. Not many people knew that. Not like he went around sharing his personal feelings with the world. "So thanks for your concern Julie, but I know her. You don't. I think I got this."

That didn't stop her. Julie was on a roll. "That ring was probably what? Couple grand or so?"

Or so, Tim thought, turning again. He shrugged, whispering. "What's it matter?"

Julie smiled quickly, whispering. "Guys like you…guys like Matt even…you don't buy women jewelry unless it means something. It's a very pretty ring." She pushed from the wall, walking by him and smiling, continuing on down the stairs and calling up at him. "She won't stop looking at it, if that means anything."

It didn't mean anything. It was like four months ago, who cared about the ring? He waited until she was gone before he rolled his eyes, disappearing back into the bedroom. He removed his phone again, hitting another number on his phone. It rang a few times, until a slurred voice answered. "Hannibal," he said, leaning against the door. He flashed a quick smile. "You been disbarred yet? I got a client for you."

After giving the details of Lyla's divorce, what little he knew, to Hannibal, including the name of her attorney, which he'd located in one of her bags, he hung up, shoving his phone into his bag, and disappearing back down the staircase to the deck. Lyla peered up at him. "Hey, where's your beer, I'm up by like one," she laughed, passing him hers. She turned back to Matt, smiling. "Matt said that he donated his time to paint murals at the children's hospital and there's going to be a big costume event to open the wing."

"Yeah, it's tomorrow night, Julie and I can probably swing you guys some tickets." Matt smiled quickly at Tim's scowl. "You have to dress up and everything. Children's characters preferred, because the kids will be there."

Sounds like its right up Garrity's alley, Tim thought, scowling. And not down any of mine. He sighed, looking at Matt. "What's your wife got you dressing up as?"

"I picked it," Matt said, grumbling.

"No you didn't," Julie said, sitting beside him on a glider. She sipped her bottle of water, smiling quickly. "We're going as Robin Hood and Maid Marian, except my version of Maid Marian, she's an archer too." She scowled. "Not some pining away princess."

Lyla poked his ribs, smiling up. "We have to think of something. I'm totally getting you into a costume."

"Nope," he announced. He shook his head. "Don't do costumes. I'm Tim Riggins. I am my own costume." There had been about twenty different parties over the years where she attempted to dress him up. The only time he'd managed to go as anything other than himself, he'd stolen one of Street's wheelchairs and went as him. That was it. Plus, he'd been very tired that night so the chair came in handy. Street hadn't been pleased. He frowned. Come to think of it, neither had been Lyla.

Julie finished her water, patting Matt's knee. "Come on, we'll all go out to dinner."

"It's like five."

"Well we have to get these guys costumes and then we can go downtown for dinner around seven or so. It'll be fun!"

Lyla immediately joined in on the fun wagon, while Tim exchanged a look with Matt. They both would rather go die, he was sure of it. He scowled, glancing at Lyla. She had a happy grin on her face. What costumes could they possibly get for this thing on such short notice anyway?


	9. Meandering

**A/N:**Thanks so much for the reviews! They are greatly appreciated :) Enjoy! Next chapter is Tami and Eric :)

* * *

**Chapter 9: Meandering**

I need a drink, Tim thought, standing in a large ballroom holding onto a glass with something red in it. It had alcohol, which for him was all that mattered, but he needed a real drink. He glanced sideways at Lyla, who was holding onto his arm loosely, talking with someone she'd just been introduced to, a neurologist of some sort. She was in heaven. He was bored out of his skull. Like he usually was at these types of things.

It had been fun at first, but then after an hour of walking around with adults dressed like children's' book and cartoon characters, it got old quickly. He liked the murals that Matt had painted, those were good and pretty neat, but now he wanted to leave. He hated these things anyway and he had nothing in common with the people. He glanced at Lyla again. She'd dropped his arm and was now waving her hands around, talking about some sort of therapeutic technique she used on her patients. "Hey," he said, lightly shaking her elbow. "I'm going to find Matt."

"Yeah, yeah sure," she said, letting go of him completely. With her short hair, slicked back against her head the way it was, she made a very elegant dark-haired Tinkerbell. The annoying thing was that he was Peter Pan.

Tim slipped away from her, dumping his drink on the tray of a waiter and making his way to the bar. "Whatever you have on tap," he asked, shoving some cash into a cookie jar that was set out for tips. He took the glass and lifted it up to the bartender, who seemed as bored as him. "Cheers."

"You know there is something poetic about you as Peter Pan." Julie glided over in her Maid Marian archer's outfit, leaning an elbow on the bar. She flashed a smile. "The boy that never grew up."

I think I've grown up enough for most people, Tim thought, taking another long sip of his beer. He nodded to her club soda. He'd figured it out earlier that morning, when she'd come out of the bathroom looking like she'd gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson. What killed him was that Matt seemed clueless and actually believed her food poisoning story. "So when are you going to tell Matt you're knocked up?"

Julie's face fell quickly, but she covered her surprise just as quickly, her brow furrowing. "How do you know?" she mumbled. She squinted. "Did Tyra tell you?"

Of course Tyra knew. "No, but you have to do a better job of explaining away the morning sickness and not drinking thing." He tapped his temple. "I'm not a complete idiot Julie." I hate when people think I am, most of the time. The other part of the time, he didn't give a shit what people thought. He shifted his weight, taking a sip of his beer. Right now he wanted to be anywhere but there.

Julie rolled her eyes. "Fine. I was planning on telling Matt after the event, but then you and Lyla showed up." She smirked. "Kind of derailed my plans."

"We'll be out of your hair tonight." He had plans, if he could tear Lyla from doctors and nurses and other medical people, but she was in her element. Hell, she was so freaking happy. He stepped around Julie, carrying his beer out onto a terrace. He reached into his pocket and removed his phone, punching a button and lifting it to his ear. "Hannibal," he said, when he heard his attorney. "What's going on?"

"Three sheets to the wind and working on this appellate brief, what's going on man?" Hannibal asked. He was slurring, so that was a good thing, Tim thought. He did his best work drunk. "Oh hey, I called that lady attorney you put me on to and she wouldn't talk without permission from her client, standard rules and all, so I'm not sure I can help out unless you get…" Papers rummaged around in the background. "Ah….Lyla Garrity to issue a notice of appearance for me."

Whatever, Tim thought, rolling his eyes and shrugging. "I'll talk to her, don't worry about it. So her ex-husband…"

"He's changing his mind and wants a divorce, it's a classic move, he asking for anything?"

"I don't know, I think he wants back together with her."

"Well that's not going to work in his favor if she wants a divorce. They have a pre-nup?"

"Hell if I know." He talked with Hannibal for a few minutes, going over what he knew about Lyla's divorce. He promised he'd talk to her and hung up, reaching to put his phone back in his pocket when it buzzed in his hand. He glanced at the number. Well, well, well, he thought, smiling quickly. He hit the answer key, holding the phone back up to his ear. "Riggins Carpentry," he bullshitted, smiling and turning, leaning back against the terrace wall.

A deep voice spoke on the other end. "This is Dr. Thorne, you called me?"

"Dr. Thorne, you mean Lyla Garrity's dick of an ex-husband?" Tim gazed through the throng of people, meeting Lyla's gaze. She waved at him, from where she was talking with the Queen of Hearts and Peter Rabbit, before turning back to speak with them some more. He smiled, his voice soft. "This is Tim Riggins. I hear you're trying to mess around with Lyla. You said you were getting a dissolution, now it's a divorce?" This is going to make things worse, but hopefully I can help that, he thought, pursing his lips slightly, his voice quiet again. "I need you to go back to a dissolution."

Jackson laughed, booming. "I don't think so Riggins. She was my wife."

"And she filed to end it and you said you would. Honor that agreement," Tim said. He swallowed hard, his voice soft. Let's try a different tack here, he wasn't buying into the tough guy from Texas act. "Do you love her?"

It seemed to work. Jackson was thrown off guard, stammering. "What? I don't have to talk to you about that. You're the one she was cheating with…"

"Lyla Garrity doesn't cheat," Tim snapped. That was absolutely certain. This asshole clearly didn't know her. I'm going to get into so much trouble for this, but he swallowed hard, continuing. "She did it once and it almost split her into two, she doesn't cheat." He shook his head, laughing and whispering. "And if you think that she would, you don't know her at all." Lyla is going to kill me, he thought, taking another deep breath. I love her. I love her and she doesn't deserve this, that's why I'm doing this. That's why I care so damn much about doing this. Jackson still wasn't speaking. His voice lifted. "Stop what you're doing Jackson. You loved her; it's hard not to love her. If you still do, stop what you're doing and let her live her life."

Jackson interrupted, startling Tim. "You just want her for yourself."

"Sure," Tim said. He'd be lying if he said he didn't. He chuckled again, turning around to look out over the terrace at Lake Michigan. "But she married you. It just didn't work out. Accept it. Stop messing with her life. There are kids that depend on her. Undo what you did and stop messing with her life. Because it's starting to mess with mine and I'm not a fan of that." He hung up before Jackson could say anything else. It wasn't going to work. To be honest, Tim was surprised he hadn't cursed him out or flown off the deep-end or anything, but…well hell, he felt sorry for the guy. If he loved Lyla so much he wanted to get back at her and do all this stuff, well…he felt sorry for him. He'd been there. He turned around, taking another long pull from his beer.

"Hey you."

Tim glanced down, smiling at Lyla, appearing beside him in her sparkling green Tinkerbell fairy outfit. "Hey you," he repeated. He smiled, still in awe of her short hair. "You look pretty."

She swirled her Jack Daniels around in her glass, tilting it up and smiling around the rim. "You just want to get laid."

"I can't say you look pretty without having an ulterior motive?"

Lyla smiled, accepting the compliment without further statement. She turned towards him, reaching up to tug on the brown leather vest he was wearing as part of his Peter Pan outfit. "You look cute. They took our pictures coming in to the gala, I made sure to buy a few, they'll mail them home with a frame and everything." She spread her fingers over his chest, smiling wide. "So does Julie realize she's doing a terrible job hiding that she's pregnant?"

He shook his head, grinning. "No, but I don't think Seven is quite on the uptake with pregnancy symptoms."

"Symptoms?" she laughed. "It's not a disease."

"Well whatever." He wrapped his arm around her waist and she returned the movement, her head dropping to his shoulder, looking into the party. He glanced down at her. Maybe I should tell her…he took a deep breath, slowly releasing it and flashed a quick, nervous smile. "Um, so…so I know that this probably isn't the best time…"

"What isn't the best time?" Lyla sighed. You know me well, he thought, hearing the impatience in her voice. She turned around in his arms, sipping at her drink, shrugging as she swallowed. "What?"

Okay, don't kill me… "Um, so I know your…" Just spit it out Riggins. Stop messing around. If she kills you, she kills you. He shook his head, glancing down at the tops of his boots. "Um, so your attorney…lawyer person…I was thinking…you should use mine. He's really good."

"The magical drunk attorney?"

"He got me a year sentence," Tim whispered. He glanced down at her; she looked surprised. He shrugged, his voice soft. "He got me out with good behavior…even went back to court and got the probation knocked down a few months, I mean…he's not bad and I think that this could have a good outcome. You just have to fire your lawyer and get Hannibal. He can do it I know he can." There. I said my peace.

They both didn't say anything for a few minutes, until Lyla turned, set her drink down on the wall of the terrace and stood on her toes, reaching up to hold his face, planting a long, intense kiss on his mouth. He froze, unsure what to do, until she pulled him closer. Oh, okay, he thought, his arm tightening around her. He broke away a second later, her nose touching his. He could feel her smiling. He glanced down at her, frowning a little. What the hell was that about? Lyla's upper lip quirked, slightly crooked. "I love you," she sighed, her arms returning to around his neck, hugging him. "So, so much. You're so sweet. You really, really are."

Yeah, okay I'm sweet, but why the kiss? Tim brushed his lips over her forehead. "Yeah?"

"Yes," she said, dropping to her feet, which were encased in sparkling green ballet flats. She spun around in a circle, a perfect pirouette, offering her hand to his. Her dark eyes were sparkling almost as much as the sequins on her outfit. "You are the best best friend a girl could ask for." She giggled, returning to his arms again. "And I'll call Hannibal. If you say he's the best…"

"He is. Divorce will be final in weeks."

"Then I'll call him," Lyla laughed. She nibbled her bottom lip, reaching up to brush her thumbtip over the corner of his mouth, wiping at lipstick. She lifted her eyebrows, drawling. "So what's up with you wanting me divorced so fast? You have plans?"

Tim kissed the diamond on her left knuckle. It was a little loose, but she kept hold of it. Maybe Julie was right about it meaning something that she'd been wearing it lately, whether Garrity knew the real reason or not. "I always have plans," he murmured, kissing her again. He let go of her, taking her hand and his beer. "Come on," he said, finishing the glass. He set it on a waiter's tray and spun her around into his arms, kissing her again. He wasn't really in the mood, but he wanted her to be. "Let's dance." Lyla grinned, jumping on her toes as they went to the dance floor. She giggled when he dropped her to the floor like he always did when they started dancing, before spinning around again. Tim hadn't forgotten what he'd said to Julie, about getting out her and Seven's hair for the evening so she could break the news.

After dancing to Garrity's heart was content and she made the rounds one more time getting business cards from people, networking she called it, they finally left the hospital, thank God. "You didn't seem happy in there," Lyla said, walking beside him down Lake Shore Avenue, about an hour later. She glanced up, her hands buried in the pockets of her North Face. The cap of her hair was covered by a beanie. Her breath came out in puffs of smoke. "I know you don't like those things, I'm sorry. I should have…been around you more."

No, I don't like those things. Never have, never will, but it wasn't going to change that she did like parties and networking; he just had to live when she wanted to bring him along. He shrugged, his fingers curled into fists in his pockets. It was freezing. "You think it ever gets warm here?" he asked, looking out at the blackness that was Lake Michigan. He stopped, turning and glanced up at the skyline. He frowned. "What do you think they see here?"

"Culture," Lyla whispered, blowing out a puff of smoke. She shrugged, jumping in place to keep warm. "Opportunities. Museums and restaurants and history…good schools and parks and…." She stopped, turning in a circle on her foot and chuckled, her voice dropping. "And you weren't really asking for an answer."

No, but I got one, thanks. He figured you could get all that in Texas, if you wanted it. Talk about history. Or culture, he thought, thinking of the giant rooster on the side of I-20 between Odessa and Midland. That was a lot of culture; it was made entirely of corn. He reached for her hand, squeezing her fingers. They were freezing. He burrowed deeper into the turned up collar of his pea coat. It was rather pretty, he thought.

They still had a few more cities to go on their grand adventure though, before they returned to Texas; Tim wondered what other pretty cities they might stop in along the way. He glanced down at Lyla, who was staring off at the darkness. You're better, he thought briefly. You're so much better already, just even after being around some friends for a few hours. He said nothing though, not wanting to ruin the moment with serious talk, and simply walked slowly along the path, stopping suddenly when a bright flash blurred his vision. "Whoa! What was that?"

Lyla lowered her phone, smiling mischievously. "It was a perfect moment for a picture."

"Gimme that!" he laughed, wrestling the phone out of her hands. She screeched, taking off down the path as he chased after her, snapping a picture. He caught up to her, swirling her around in his arms. "We better stop," he said, catching sight of some cops that were becoming very interested in them from the corner.

She turned around, spying the cops. "Oh yeah, probably not a good idea to have a dude chasing a girl in downtown Chicago at night."

"Or ever."

They slowed to a walk again, her arm in his. "So where are we going next?" Lyla asked, glancing up. She rested her head on his shoulder again, her voice quiet. "I was thinking maybe we go to Philadelphia and see Mrs. Taylor and Coach Taylor. It's been awhile."

That was exactly my thinking, Tim thought, smiling softly. He nodded. "Yeah, sounds good." He reached for her phone. "Let me see this." You want photos Garrity, he thought, holding it up as she smiled from beside him. He hit the button, the flash going off and their images on the screen. Peter Pan and Tinkerbell, he thought, passing it to her. He kissed her temple. "Love you."

It got a lot easier to say. Used to be difficult, until the more he said it, the easier it got. They'd only recently begun to say it to each other more. Especially on this trip. Lyla's eyes darkened somewhat, her smile faint on her lips. Reminds me of how I used to look, he thought, when I was aimless and didn't know which way of the world was up. She nodded, her voice a little strong; she was always stronger than me, he thought, squeezing her hand tight. "I love you," she whispered. She waited a moment and spoke again, changing the subject. "You know Matt and Julie are going to be busy tonight, celebrating."

"Yeah? I figured. What do you think we can do for a few more hours until they pass out?"

"Oh I think it'll be more than a few hours, Julie told me they've been trying to get pregnant for a couple of years now." What? He didn't know that. Tyra should have at least thought to have mentioned it to him. He smiled briefly, glancing down at her; she was smiling again. Beautiful Garrity, he thought; if Matt and Julie were having a kid, then you should have a kid; he thought again, his head touching down to hers. Lyla released a long breath, whispering. "So I have an idea."

The past few times she'd had idea, it hadn't ended very well for them. Or at least, not without a hangover. "What's your idea?" he asked, stopping when she turned and began to lead them back through Millennium Park to Michigan Avenue.

"You'll see."

"I don't like it when you say you'll see. We have to get back the house, what about Ewok?"

"Ewok is fine, he was sleeping under the bed when we left." Lyla hurried through the park, stopping at the curb several minutes later, throwing her arm out for a passing cab. She pulled open the door, shoving him inside the back. "It'll be fun."

Several hours later, they sat on a bench on the Navy Pier, bundled up in a blanket that they'd gotten after hiding out at the Peninsula Hotel for a few hours, with remnants of hot dogs beside them and a brown paper bag now in Lyla's hands, after spending about an hour in his, watching the sunset. An all-nighter, he thought with a smile, feeling her breathing against him. "This was fun," he murmured. For both of us.

"It's pretty."

"We should go to the top of the Sears Tower next."

She chuckled, nuzzling against his neck, whispering. "After I get a nap."

"After you get a nap," he mumbled, smiling, his arm tight around her shoulders, watching the sun over the lake. He blinked when she immediately snapped a picture. "Stop it!" he laughed. "You're going to blind me."

"I want memories." She curled back into him, sighing, and her voice soft. Memories. Photographs might be memories, but this…he wrapped her up tighter beside him. You made memories. Experienced them. He'd kept that side of him silent for a while, not wanting a memory of anything he'd been thinking or doing, but now…well now he wanted as many memories as he could have. With you, he thought, kissing her forehead, his eyes fluttering shut, suddenly feeling exhausted. With you Garrity, we can have as many memories as possible.


	10. Third Destination

**A/N:**Thanks for the reviews :) Hope everyone is still enjoying.

* * *

**Chapter 10: Third Destination**

"So Gracie, what grade are you in again?" Lyla asked, sitting beside Gracie, who managed to tear her gaze away from him long enough to answer Lyla's question. Seventh, she'd answered, since she was eleven. She finally glanced back his way, with big blue doe-eyes. I'm the first crush of a pre-teen, Tim thought, trying not to entertain whatever fantasy she had. Lyla had thought it was adorable, when they were at dinner the night before and Gracie could barely ask him to pass the salt without flushing bright pink, which with her strawberry blonde hair and pale features had made her embarrassment obvious to everyone in the vicinity of their table.

Tim smiled politely at her, from his perch on the bleacher above Gracie and Mrs. Taylor. He lifted his boot up to set beside her, leaning down. "Seventh grade huh, bet you're the prettiest one in the whole grade."

All that did was make her flush more; Mrs. Taylor shot him a look warning him off, but she was trying not to smile too wide. Lyla punched his elbow. "Stop it," she mumbled, turning around and looking down at the sidelines. "This is a fun game."

It was a boring game, Tim thought; stop trying to be polite. She had her hand wrapped in his loosely, watching the Pioneers square off against the Minutemen. It was third quarter and zeros across the board. He leaned down to Mrs. Taylor. "They ever get a score?"

"It's not a good crop this year," Tami said, keeping her voice down. S he lifted her head up, nodding towards the sidelines. "Get down there."

"What? No." Coach told him to stay in his seat no matter how annoyed he got. Tim wasn't sure what that had meant when they got to the football field, but now he knew. He was itching to get down there, throw a couple of kids' heads together, and square up that offense. Their fullback was terrified of actually hitting and their quarterback had fumbled more than he'd thrown. Tim moved a little on the bleacher seat, sliding towards the end.

Tami turned around, pushing her boot up on the bleacher she was sitting on, hoisting herself up to sit beside him. She gestured towards the field, pointing towards the quarterback. "He's had a bad year, he threw an interception last year during a state semifinal and lost the game, he hasn't been able to get it back. The fullback broke his shoulder last year and he's scared to put weight on it. This isn't Texas Timothy, they don't have Boosters pushing them along and summer practice and everything. Go down there."

"But Coach told me…"

Lyla snorted. "Since when do you do what people tell you to do Tim?" She arched an eyebrow, smiling crookedly. She pointed. "Go down there."

Well…if you guys keep pushing me, Tim thought, smiling sideways at her. He shrugged. "You going to be okay?" She'd be fine. She'd been fine for the better part of the week. They'd gone from Chicago, after celebrating for a few days with Matt and Julie, through Northern Ohio, stopping long enough to get some pictures along Lake Erie, and then through Pennsylvania to Philly.

She cocked her head, reaching her hand up to cup his jawline, tilting her head backwards slightly to kiss his cheek. "You're so sweet to think of me." Well you know Garrity it is kind of why I'm here, he thought, quirking his lip up. She patted his cheek and jerked her thumb to the field. "Go."

Well if you insist, he thought, jumping up and winking at Gracie. "You get to see why I'm your dad's favorite."

"That would actually be Matt," Tami called, teasingly.

"Only because he married your daughter!" Tim called back; I'm going to pay for that one later, he thought, seeing Tami's scowl. He grinned at Lyla, who was smiling down at him, clapping her hands with the small crowd. It was practically pathetic; these people needed to see that this was the best night of the week, he thought, slipping down onto the field and walking over to Coach Taylor. "Hey Coach."

Eric turned around, rolling his eyes and pushed a clipboard against his chest. "What took you so long?"

"You told me to stay in my seat."

"And you've never listened to me before, don't know why you're starting now, time out!" he yelled, forming a 'T' with his hands to the referee. He waited until the team was called together, pushing his microphone up and jabbing Tim in the shoulder with his finger. "Listen up ladies, offense, get up front!"

This was excellent, Tim thought, smiling as he lowered the clipboard. He stared at the offense plays lined up, shaking his head and glancing across the field at the other team. They were terrible at offense, but their defense was good. Not necessarily a good combination with what he'd seen coming from the Pioneers. He pursed his lips, thinking for a second and then smiled, long and slow. "Okay, here's what we're going to do…"

A few hours later, he was the hero of the Pioneers, having coached them into a win. A 7-0 win, but that touchdown had come at a lot of work, Tim thought, smiling to himself as they entered the kitchen of the Taylor's old fashioned Colonial home. He shrugged off his coat, turning around when Coach said something about how his talents were wasted by not coaching. "Well Billy's doing pretty well. He's got two State championships under his belt," he said.

"That's something to be proud of, sure, but I think with your offensive plays and Billy's overall coaching, you guys could make a hell of a team," Eric said, removing a beer from the fridge, passing it to him. He smiled at Lyla, who had been quiet, standing on the other side of the kitchen island. "Would you like one Lyla?"

"Oh no thank you, I'm pretty tired." You okay, Tim wondered, immediately keying in on her fatigue. There were faint dark circles under her eyes and her shoulders were sagging a bit. He set the beer bottle on the counter with a clink, walking over towards her and reaching to brush his thumb beneath her right eye, where the dark circle seemed deeper. "You okay?" he whispered, voicing his concern out loud. He cupped the back of her head and neck in the palms of his hands, which allowed her to sag a little more against him, no longer having the energy to hold herself up.

A tiny smile pulled on her pale lips. "Just a lot tonight," she whispered. She smiled wider. "You enjoy your win. I'm going to go upstairs. It's a bit past my bedtime," she teased. It was late, sure, but Garrity you were doing so well…Tim hoped this wasn't a setback of any sort. She patted his hand with hers. "I'm fine."

Did you get a phone call or something from Hannibal or Jackson or…he wasn't sure, because he'd been on the field the remainder of the evening. Let it go Riggins. You'll make it worse if you push. He nodded, letting go of her and stepping aside. She lifted her fingers up in a small wave to Eric and Tami, who had just come from around the corner, having seen Gracie upstairs. "Good night," she called. "Thank you for a lovely evening."

"Let us know if you need anything," Tami called. She waited until the door closed upstairs before walking over to a wine rack, slipping a bottle from between the wire circles. "Okay Tim, talk to us."

Talk to you about what? Tim sipped his beer, shrugging. "She's fine," he said defensively. He guessed at least that that was what Tami would want to talk about. He shrugged again. "So um, have you talked to Matt and Julie? Are they glad to have us out of their hair?"

"Yes, I've spoken with my pregnant daughter," Tami said, smiling in spite of herself. She cocked her head, pouring her wine into a large glass, speaking over the sound of it splashing against the sides. "What I want to talk to you about is Lyla Garrity."

"Tami give him a break," Eric said, taking off his hat and running his hand over his hair. He hung it up on a peg next to the back door, toeing off his shoes onto a mat beneath the pegs. He lifted an eyebrow. "Tim, what are you planning on doing tomorrow? I think we should go over some game film."

"I think you are not going over game film, we're going to see the Liberty Bell tomorrow."

"It's going to be Saturday, that's a day of all the tourists."

"I don't care, Tim is here in Philadelphia and we're going to go see the Liberty Bell and Constitutional Hall and then take a drive to Valley Forge. We'll make a day of it," Tami said, sounding awfully excited at a day of history. Tim could not be less excited; he knew Lyla wanted to see all that stuff, but he'd gone through it once in high school and didn't care to relive the Revolutionary War again. He must have made a face or something, because Tami pointed her finger at him, glaring. "I saw that Tim. I know you had extra help on your Revolutionary War project in high school, because you got an A on it and then on your test that same week, you said that Cornwallis surrendered at Yorkshire Pudding and not Yorktown."

Um, yeah, he probably didn't do all the work on that project. He smiled, trying to play it off. "Hey, I got help on that project from Lyla Garrity, go yell at her."

"Lyla never did any of your schoolwork for you and you know it, that girl is sweet. Only person that I think actually got you to do your schoolwork." Tami sipped her wine, setting it down on the counter, still looking at him. She waited a moment and then tossed her hair over her shoulder and her hand going ot her hip. "Okay Tim. Tell us. How is she really?"

Fine, he thought, turning around and going into the living room. He sank into an armchair, leaning forward on his elbows and knees. He looked over his shoulder, just to double check and make sure Lyla wasn't behind him or anything, and then looked up at them. Coach and Mrs. Taylor, he thought, studying them, sitting on the couch. Eric looked like he'd rather be anywhere but there, despite the fact Tim knew he would want to help. Meanwhile Tami was waiting patiently, her legs crossed and her glass of wine waiting in her hand. "Okay," he said. He looked up again, his voice soft. "She's in a…not a great place, but she'll be fine."

"When will her divorce be final?" Tami asked. She took a sip of wine and tossed her hair from her eyes again, her voice clear. "Because Tim, that girl right now is not fine. She's pretending its fine."

"It'll be final when…when it's final, I don't know. She misses her kids," Tim said. He knew that was a big part of it all. He shrugged. "She misses her kids and…and work…and no offense but it probably wasn't the best thing for her to be around Matt and Julie, all happy and married and stuff." She'd been fine at the time, but their drive from Chicago to Philly hadn't been the most vocal.

At least, that's why he thought she hadn't been very talkative. At least she wasn't asleep the whole time. Plus they'd had fun running along Lake Erie one morning, when they stopped for the night in Cleveland and to let Ewok get his feet wet in at least two of the Great Lakes. She said she liked that. She liked the water. Tim shrugged again, slightly agitated. "Look I'm doing the best I can."

"And I know you are sweetie and it's wonderful, it's really wonderful, but Tim you have your life," Tami said, getting up from the couch and walking over to sit beside him on the chair. She wrapped her arm around his shoulders. "And you seem to be doing very well."

Eric spoke for the first time in the last five minutes, agreeing. "Yes Tim. You're doing very well. Tyra was here for Thanksgiving. She mentioned that your business is booming."

"Yeah, it's…it's fine," Tim said. It was doing great, but this wasn't about him. He shrugged. "Look you guys…I know you're…you're trying to help." For whatever reason he trusted them and they…they loved him, as hard as it was for him to admit that he knew that about them. He'd never say it out loud. He loved them too. He dropped his voice again, whispering. "But she…she did something for me."

They would never know how bad it had truly been for him. The nightmares and the overwhelming pressure from everyone and everything to be the same Tim as before jail, to be best friends with Billy again, and to just move on with his life like he didn't just do something…something life-shattering.

"We would have been there," Tami blurted out. She seemed nervous, her brow wrinkled. "If we'd known, I…"

Eric was already shaking his head slightly at her. Don't bother, Tim could have said. "You guys had your lives, you were here, and I'm not your kid or anything," he said, looking over at Eric. I'm just a guy that played football for you and was a pain in your ass for three years. He shrugged again, his voice soft. "Look, Lyla did something for me. She…she was in school and I showed up and…and we…look, I owe her. Okay?"

Maybe that's what it boiled down to, but that wasn't entirely it. Tami smiled, quirking her lip towards Eric. She kept her gaze on him. "Lyla's wearing a ring. What's that about?"

"Chain broke. It's just a gift," he said, defensive. That damn ring again. First it was Julie and now it was her mother. He should have prepared more for this; he knew he was going to get his head shrunk by Tami, but she was just doing it a little differently.

"Tami," Eric mumbled, shaking his head again and sipping his beer. He sighed hard. "Leave him alone." He waited a second, dropping his gaze to Tim's line of sight. "He's just being Tim."

Whoa…what did that mean? He squinted. "Huh?"

"You owe her?" Eric echoed. He chuckled, took a sip of his beer, and leaned forward, setting it down on the coffee table. "You don't owe Lyla Garrity anything Tim. She's not someone who likes being owed for doing the right thing. You want to be a martyr, that's your problem, and you have to think of yourself sometimes."

Funny, seems most people have been telling me my whole life that I think too much for myself. The few times I actually do things for others, they tell me I've got to actually act selfish. Which is it, he wondered, getting up from the chair. "I'm fine Coach," he said, his voice soft. He shrugged. "The business is fine and…and the kid I was living with the last six years is now in Germany." He looked at Mrs. Taylor next, his voice softening around the edges. "Lyla's my best friend. She needs me and I'm going to be there for her." He took a step back, smiling a little. "I appreciate your concern. Thank you for letting us crash here a few days, but…but I'm fine, trust me."

Maybe that's why they seemed overly concerned. He smiled again, shrugging and glancing at Coach, who seemed…surprised at his pushback. "I'm not the same Coach. I'm actually really okay." He shrugged. "My life is pretty great."

Tami smiled, glancing at Coach and then to him again. "And that's wonderful Tim. We're very proud of you."

"Thank you." He nodded to them both. "Good night." He turned around, walking to the stairs and took them two at a time, pausing to glance down through the gaps in the banister, smiling a little at Tami and Eric, who were hugging in front of the fireplace. How long had they been married? Pretty long time. It really didn't seem so bad.

He turned around and went upstairs, knocking lightly on the door to his and Lyla's room. He'd told Tami and Eric that he could take the couch, but they'd insisted on having him sleep in a trundle bed that pulled out from beneath Lyla's, if the two of them weren't going to be sharing a bed. He didn't want to tell them that yeah, they probably would, but it was strictly platonic. "Hey," he murmured, closing the door and crawling over to join her.

Lyla turned a little, smiling. "Hey," she said, her throat scratchy. She sat back on her elbows, her pixie hair sticking up in a spiky crown. "What did Coach and Mrs. Taylor have to say to you?"

He kicked off his boots and stretched out beside her, his arms crossing behind his head. "Told me they're proud of me. They're concerned bout you. About why I'm doing this with you." He turned his head a little, smiling and whispering, seeing the ring sparkling on her left hand, which she had resting over her heart. "They want to know why you're wearing that ring."

She turned over and propped her head up on her hand, reaching over with her left to twirl at a lock of his hair. "What'd you say?"

"Said your chain broke." He paused. "That is the reason?"

Lyla simply smiled, her face serene. She waited a moment, licked her lips, and then glanced back at him again, whispering. "I know that…I'm not even out of my marriage yet and we…we've been dancing around this for years Tim. We talk about babies and we pretend we're married to strangers and we see a young couple who didn't let anything come in the way of their dreams and now they're married and having a baby and…and then we're here with Coach and Mrs. Taylor who have been married for so long and it's good and I just…I want it so much." She fisted her hand over his heart, whispering. "I just want that…that connection and I know that I…I thought I could have it with someone else because you weren't ready at the time and now it's become one of the biggest mistakes…"

"No regrets," he interrupted. She might think that her first marriage was a mistake, but…well hell he'd come to learn about regrets and mistakes in his life and it wasn't a mistake. It only made her…stronger. Tim shook his head again. "No regrets Garrity."

She leaned over, kissing him lightly. Her voice was strong and clear. "If you ask, I will say yes. When you are ready Tim. I'll be ready too." She patted his cheek, grinning and rolling over, climbing out of bed. "I'm going to the bathroom. I think Ewok needs let out."

Ewok whined from his little fluffy bed across the room, beside the door. Tim glanced at him, rolled his eyes, and smiled. He waited a second and then blinked. Wait…huh? "Wait, what?" he called.

Lyla opened the bathroom door, leaning against it and grinning. "You ask me. I say yes." She smirked. "Seriously Tim how dense can you be?" She shut the door, still smiling.

Ask and I'll say yes. Well…well then, he thought, laughing. He hopped out of bed and scooped up Ewok, carrying him downstairs. He smiled at Tami, walking over and kissing her cheek. "Thanks Mrs. Taylor."

"Oh my honey, what was that for?" she laughed, looking up from the sink where she was doing some dishes. She passed him Ewok's leash, which had been sitting beside the sink. She grinned. "You seem extra happy. What just went on upstairs? Wait." She closed her eyes and held up her hands. "I don't want to know."

Tim shook his head, leaning against the counter. "I'll invite you to the wedding. One day."

"When you guys are ready, right?" Tami smiled again, setting a dish in the rack to dry. "Well Tim, whenever that is, I will be more than happy to attend the wedding." She propped her hand on her hip, glancing at him again. Her voice grew more serious. "So long as you keep up the work you're doing. I'm not kidding, we are proud of you."

And thanks, he thought, clipping the leash to Ewok's collar. "So Revolutionary War stuff tomorrow, huh?" he asked. He shrugged. "We going to have time to stop here?" He reached into his back pocket, removing a flyer he'd picked up at a rest stop coming into town. It was for a tavern that acted exactly like Revolutionary War days, complete with the beer and everything.

Tami rolled her eyes. "Yes, we'll stop there." She nodded to Ewok, who was dancing in place. "I think that one needs out."

Oh shit, yeah. Tim opened up the back door, walking out with Ewok. Their backyard wasn't fenced in, but he gave Ewok as much reign as possible on the leash, finding Eric standing at the corner of the patio, sipping his beer and looking out at the lightly falling snow. It was pretty, Tim thought. They'd done this road trip at a good time. There were Christmas lights on around them and the Taylors had the tree up. Christmas was in a week and a half. He wondered where they'd be by then.

Eric sighed, glancing sideways. "So when is the wedding?"

"Whenever we get our shit together," Tim said. He shrugged, watching Ewok pad around in the thin layer of frost, sniffing. "She's divorcing sir. It's not going to be for awhile." Besides, all I have to do is ask. He flashed a grin, lightening up the conversation. "So Grandpa!"

"Shut it."

"Have to say, you're going to be a grandfather and Buddy Garrity…"

"Shut it up, do you know what that means?" Eric snapped. He rolled his eyes, sipping at his beer and shaking his head, grumbling. "Grandpa. Tami's happy about it. I'm going to be a grandpa. Jeez." He sighed. "So how is Buddy? It's been awhile since we spoke. He calls now and then. Complains about your brother most of the time."

"Yeah, well he usually complains about him to me too, but he never seems to actually talk to Billy." Tim shrugged. He watched Ewok for a few minutes and spoke softly. "We miss you Coach. You ever think of coming back?" It hadn't been too long. About eight years since they left.

Eric shrugged, his voice soft. "If you ever get married Tim, you'll come to realize that there are things you give up for the other person. A trade off of sorts. Compromise. Tami gave up a lot for me and now it's time I give up for her. But it's really not so bad." He shrugged. "We went to State last year, almost. This is just a bad season. The town is nice, not like Dillon, but…it's a good place." He smiled a little, whispering. "But we'll end up in Texas again one day. Just not anytime soon." He waited a few seconds, smiling. "You are doing well?"

It wasn't so much a question as a statement, Tim thought. He nodded, smiling again. "Yeah, doing great. Told you guys inside."

"And this…this thing with Lyla is just…just you guys running around the country together?" Eric smirked. "Seems like something you guys did in high school once."

"Well we did. Went to Mexico, but that was to save Jason, so it all worked out." This time it's to save Lyla. Tim smiled again, stepping off the porch to pick up Ewok, who had settled in the snow for a nap. He picked up the dog, rubbing his ears and grinning. "This is actually fun."

"Whatever. Wipe that dog off before you take it inside, will you?"

"Of course sir." He carried Ewok back inside, wiping him down with a paper towel before dropping him to the floor, where he took off upstairs. Tami had gone up to bed, the lights off in the lower portion of the house. So he went back upstairs and shucked his clothing, crawling in with Lyla.

Just when he was about to settle in for a good long sleep, preparing for the History Channel that would be his life tomorrow, when the light flicked on beside him. He blinked, turning slightly, staring at Lyla, who was sitting up. "Hey," he mumbled. "You can't sleep?"

"Did you call Jackson?" Oh shit. Tim opened his eyes again. He swallowed hard, turning al ittle, staring sideways at her. Lyla looked straight ahead, her voice soft and teeth set. "I told you not to call him. I told you don't talk to him. You'd make it worse."

What happened, he thought, sitting up. Lyla turned her head again, glaring at him. "You're not sleeping in here with me," she whispered, climbing out of the bed and storming into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Tim sighed. Damnit. How did she find out?

Might as well make it worse, he thought, grabbing her phone. He read the text message on the screen when he hit the power button. _Call off your boyfriend and maybe I'll call off the lawyers. By the way, he's not as fearsome and you might think he is. Thanks for confirming that you were sleeping with him all through our marriage too Lyla._

"Fuck," Tim cursed, throwing the phone down and climbing out of bed. He took Ewok with him, the dog growling. He grabbed a pillow and went downstairs, crashing onto the couch and pulling a blanket over him. He'd sneak back upstairs in the morning. No one had to know. But hell, what was he supposed to do now?


	11. Another Detour

**A/N:**Thanks for the reviews! Enjoy! :)

* * *

**Chapter 11: Another Detour**

At some point in the morning, Tim thought he would be able to beat any of the Taylors awake, sneak back up to his trundle bed, and pretend like he didn't spend the night on the couch because Lyla had kicked him out. He still wasn't even sure why she was mad about him talking to Jackson. Did she get in trouble? Who cared?

He threw off the blanket, thinking he was the first person awake, jumping back when he realized that he wasn't alone in the living room. Gracie was sitting in the armchair, holding Ewok. "How long have you been there?" he asked, sitting up. Thank God he'd decided to put on his flannel pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt instead of sleeping in his briefs like he usually did. It was cold in the large, drafty old house.

She shrugged, her cheeks only slightly pink; maybe she was getting used to him, he thought, yawning behind his hand. "I always wake up first," she said. She looked down at Ewok, who was lolling in her arms, in pure heaven. She cocked her head, her pale blonde ponytail swinging at her shoulders. "What kind of a dog is he?"

Why are you talking to me, when last night you couldn't even look at me without flushing, Tim wondered, shrugging his shoulders. "Cockapoo," he said.

"Kind of a girly dog."

"He's a bit of a girl," Tim said, smiling a little at Gracie's giggle. He took a deep breath, wondering if he was going to push his luck with his next statement. "So you're talking to me, huh?"

She immediately turned bright red, looking down at her toes. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"Naw, don't be, just wondering why now, I've been here like three days." Tim shrugged a little, watching Ewok lick Gracie's cheek, smiling when she giggled again. "You like him, huh?"

"Dad says we can't have a dog, because I'm allergic, but he's not making me sneeze or anything like that." Gracie nuzzled Ewok's fur, grinning again. "He's really cute. Why is he named Ewok?"

"The girl who had him before liked Star Wars," Tim said, thinking of Taylor. His heart cramped a little. He missed her so much. They had weekly phone calls, because of the cost to call between the US and Germany, but he'd missed their last one and she'd missed the one before that. Hopefully he could talk to her this week at least. He cleared his throat. "She was allergic to dogs too. Cockapoos are…they have that curly fur or something. Makes them easier for kids with allergies."

Gracie set him down on the ground. "Cool," she said, folding her hands in her lap. She swallowed hard, whispering. "I heard Lyla crying last night."

Damnit. That's probably why she was down here talking to him. He sighed, looking at his hands. "Really? I didn't know that."

"I just…I mean…I woke up and…and you were down here so I didn't want to get breakfast yet, but…" Gracie swallowed nervously. She nibbled her lower lip, reaching to tuck her hair behind her ear, whispering. "Why was she crying? I mean…is she sad about something?"

Probably. I really screwed it up this time. Tim shrugged, his voice quiet. "You'll have to ask her." He swished his lips around, nodding towards the fireplace, which had some artwork of Gracie's framed above it. "You're a good artist. You want to be like your brother-in-law?" It was weird to think of Matt as a brother-in-law to an eleven-year old.

Gracie shrugged, slumping back in the armchair. "I don't know. Why is Lyla upset?" Nice reverting back to the topic you want to talk about. You learn that from your mother, he wondered, standing up and folding the blanket he'd used, setting it back over the couch. "You can try to pretend you weren't down here all night, but Mom will know. She knows everything."

I don't doubt that. Tim sighed, rolling his eyes and picking up Ewok from where he'd jumped onto the couch. Tami's rules had been that he couldn't be on the furniture and that was it, otherwise he had freedom to roam. "Yeah, I don't know why Lyla's upset. You'll have to ask her."

"I really like Lyla. She gave me some…some tips on how to deal with the girls at school." Gracie rolled her eyes when he looked over at her immediately, concerned. "Just…mean girls." She sighed hard, shrugging. "And you're down here so I thought…what did you do to make her angry?"

Why does it have to be me? "So you excited to go see the Bell or something today?" he asked, ignoring her question and walking into the kitchen, taking the teakettle off the stove. He really could use a drink and it wasn't even eight in the morning.

"I kind of had a crush on you, but…if you made Lyla mad then I don't think I do anymore," Gracie said, matter of fact. He straightened up, his eyes widening. Well that was a statement to make. He turned around, squinting at her. She continued, acting very much like her mother; matter-of-fact and know-it-all-ish. "I wanted to go ask her what was wrong, but it was late and well, no one tells me anything. They think I can't handle it."

I'm sure you can, Tim thought, turning around after he dropped the kettle on the stove. He leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms and ankles. He shrugged. "I might have done something I thought was good and it wasn't."

"Are you guys going to get married? You should say you're sorry and just…you just say you're sorry," Gracie said. She smiled quickly. "That's what Mom always tells Dad when she gets mad at him. He does and it makes it easier and they're happy again."

That's kind of like how he knew Billy and Mindy dealt with their arguments. It wasn't very fair to him, but…well it got good results. He ran his tongue over his teeth, about to tell Gracie that he didn't do anything wrong, when Lyla emerged in the doorway, scratching at her hair. She dropped her hand to her side, pulling her gaze from him and smiled at Gracie. "You're up early Gracie Belle."

"I always get up early," Gracie said. She rocked on her feet for a moment and crossed her arms over her chest. "Are you okay Lyla?"

"I'm fine sweetie, thank you for asking." Lyla lifted her chin, glaring at him for a moment before it was replaced with bland indifference. So that's how it's going to be, he thought with a scowl. "Good morning Tim."

"Good morning Lyla."

Gracie looked between both of them, smiling behind her hand. She shrugged, speaking softly. "You should just say you're sorry. It always works," she said, looking at him before turning on her heel, saying something about how she had to go upstairs and get dressed and make her bed. Eleven-year old telling me what to do like they know better, Tim thought, rolling his eyes and looking down at the kettle. Boil, damnit.

"You know a watched pot never boils." Lyla stood at his side. She dropped her shoulders, reaching for a bag of tea from a ceramic container beside the stove. Her voice fell to a soft volume, not overly angry or sad. Just…indifferent. "When did you call Jackson?"

So we're going to do this, huh? Fine. "Last week. In Chicago."

"What did you tell him? I need to know if this becomes a thing in court one day," she said, her tone growing more biting.

He blew out a breath, rolling his eyes. "Told him to back off if he really loved you." He looked down at her, smirking. "Guess he didn't love you, good choice there Garrity." Ouch, he thought, feeling Lyla's hand crack on his cheek. He turned slightly, lifting his eyebrows, not reacting much to the sting. There was no heat behind it. It was a motion. She was glaring and her chest rose quickly with each breath. He scowled. "I told him that if he really loved you that he should back off. He said you were cheating throughout the marriage and you know what? You don't cheat Lyla and I told him that. Told him if he really knew you, he'd know that, but I guess he doesn't, because he still seems to think you did." He continued, lifting his finger to poke into her chest. "I don't pity the guy Garrity, but I think I understand of all people where he's coming from, because I fell in love with you and…" He paused. This was pathetic. Pathetic of him to say it, but what the hell? She hated him right now. Might as well just make her hate him more. "But I fell in love with you and you broke my heart too. When you went back to Street and when you ran off with Christian guy and told me you don't feel that way about me. When you left for college without even telling me. When you left Dillon." He sighed, whispering, and shaking his head. "I'm not a stranger to that feeling of losing you Garrity so I know how he feels."

It didn't seem to matter to her, because she continued to glare at him. "Difference is," Lyla snapped; cold. "Difference is that you didn't decide to get back at me. You decided to just fall into alcohol and women and your life Tim. You're resilient and you wouldn't hurt someone just because they hurt you." She lifted her eyebrows, breathing. "You're not that cold." She swallowed hard, her throat bobbing and her voice cracking. "But you do go behind people's backs to do things you think are going to help you. Or even to help them. You do things that you think are right but they hurt people and you don't understand why. You think just because you had to do it that way or because you tried to help that we should say oh that's nice." She shook her head. "I can't do that, because now he's angry with me Tim and he won't back down, which is all I want him to do. At this point, I will do anything to get him to back off so I can get back to my life. I don't care if it's because he loves me so much or whatever."

She turned away from him, walking away and to the stairs, quietly ascending and closing her bedroom door. Damnit. Tim leaned on the stove, staring at the teakettle. It wasn't even hissing. He flicked off the stove and turned around, walking quickly to the staircase and jogged up them, opening up the door to Lyla's room and grabbed her around her waist.

She yelped, but said nothing as he dragged her out of the house and set her down on the front walkway. "Now I can be louder," he said, at her stunned expression. He glared at her, his hands on his hips. Freezing cold and wearing socks, which the snow was now seeping into, but he didn't care. "I was trying to help you Lyla and I'm sorry that it's coming back to bite you in the ass, okay?! I want this over with too!"

"Yeah, so you can marry me!" Lyla shouted.

"So you can be happy again!" Tim shouted back. He swallowed hard, stepping towards her and grabbing her shoulders, staring her straight in the eye. She was miserable. She was miserable and it was killing him that even two weeks later, even after driving over a thousand miles and visiting a bunch of stuff and people, she still was upset and miserable. "So you can be happy Garrity! You're sad and I was trying to help you out in the beginning but now I can't stand it! It's killing me to see you sleep all day and laugh but there's nothing there and smile but you don't mean it, I hate it!" He stepped back, laughing. "And I called the asshole who is ruining your life to get him to back off. So he isn't backing off, oh well! Oh well! Don't let him ruin you because he's the one who is so miserable he has to lash out, okay?"

"Ruin me?" Lyla laughed. She threw her arms in the air. "He is ruining me! He's destroying my career!"

"And that isn't you!" Tim shouted. He shook his head, his voice dropping. "That isn't just you. You're you. Not your job. You think I let Billy completely ruin me with the jail thing?"

"You got close to letting him Tim."

"I got close, but I didn't." He shook his head, whispering. "No. No I didn't let him completely ruin me because then he would have won. Then everyone who ever thought that I was going to be a deadbeat alcoholic would have won and you know what? You showed me that that wasn't right."

"Tyra did, not you."

"You did too," he said. He didn't understand why she was fighting him on this. What was he supposed to do!? He was trying here. He was just trying like he always was to let her do her thing, when she got angry and he just stood there. When she got sad, he tried to make her feel better. This wasn't Lyla! This was…this was old Lyla, he thought. Lyla from high school, who sulked and felt sorry for herself. Which she was never very good at doing anyway. "Stop feeling sorry for yourself," he snapped. He shook his head, his voice rising, which it didn't do often. "You're feeling sorry for yourself because your marriage didn't work out, because you couldn't fix it. Because he isn't acting like a normal person would and you got screwed over and yeah, he really screwed you on the work thing, but they will come around and you'll be back at work helping kids with broken spines and feeling great about what you do, but damnit Garrity! Yelling at me for just trying to do something to make it easier on you isn't how to do it. It backfired on me. Oh well. I'll just do something else."

He took a deep breath, about to tell her off for being so bipolar lately, all happy at Mt. Rushmore and sweet in Chicago and now downright crazy in Philadelphia, when she flung herself at him. For a brief second, he lifted his hand up, preparing for another slap, but she was grabbing the back of his neck, pulling him down to her for a kiss.

Remind me to get you angry more often, Tim thought, grabbing at her hair and a little annoyed he couldn't wrap his hands up in it like he used to do, kissing her back with equal ardor. She lifted herself up, swinging around his neck and deepening the kiss, gasping for a moment when she pulled back. "I'm still mad you did that without telling me," she said, taking a deep breath.

"Well I didn't know how you were going to react," Tim said, kissing her again when she pushed herself back against him. He pulled back again, frowning. "What's this about? You're mad at me."

"I love you, I'm mad at you and I am still going to be annoyed at you, but…" She swallowed hard, shrugging and whispering. "You're right and…and I'm letting it get to me again. He's just…he's sad and pathetic and I'm letting it ruin me like he wants. You're right."

"Say that a little louder, I didn't quite hear you."

Lyla rolled her eyes, whispering. "You're right," she murmured, kissing him again. In the back of his mind, Tim heard the front door open, the bell on the wreath jangling.

"Morning Bob!" Eric yelled from beside them, waving to a neighbor who was just staring at the end of his driveway. He shook his hand. "Friends of ours from Dillon. It's a Texas thing, fighting in the front yard. Carry on." He returned up the walkway with his cup of coffee and the newspaper, rolling his eyes. "Both of you get inside before you catch pneumonia." He rolled his eyes again. "And go somewhere else to get a room or something."

Or something, Tim thought briefly, lifting his eyebrows. Lyla giggled, shaking her head and kissing him again. "Not yet."

Not yet, huh? Well fine. He broke a second kiss, whispering. "I'm really sorry about Jackson. I…I'm sorry okay?" He truly was. If his phone call really messed it up, he was sorry about that.

She shook her head, whispering. "It'll be fine. He has no proof and it doesn't matter anyway…in the long run I guess. I talked to Hannibal this morning…"

"He was awake?" That must have been like six Texas time.

"Probably awake from the night before, anyway he said not to worry about it, that he can get a restraining order so Jackson just stops calling me or texting me in general." She took a deep breath, smiling a little. Her eyes were sparkling again. "I'm sorry about my funk…last night at the game…you were just so happy." She smiled wide. "And I love seeing you happy and I guess it just…just kind of made me feel sad because things aren't working out how I planned, but…but your plans are."

He shook his head, whispering. "My plans never work out Garrity. You of all people should know that."

"Either way…I'm sorry."

"And I'm sorry."

"Good, both of you are sorry, will you get inside before you both catch a cold and I've got patients to care for on Christmas!" Tami shouted from the front step. She pushed them inside as they walked back up the steps, grinning and trying not to laugh. "Honestly, you both are ridiculous. Get upstairs and get dressed, I want to be first in line before the tour buses get to Constitutional Hall."

She reached for his collar, dragging him back and shaking her head. "Nuh-uh Tim Riggins, let her change first. You both are hot under the collar and I've got an eleven-year old in this house. Gracie! Don't use all the hot water!" She pushed him towards the kitchen, smiling. "You both were chummy out there."

Tim leaned on the kitchen island, smiling. "All I have to do is ask."

"I don't want to know what that means," Tami said. Eric nodded in agreement, reading the paper at the kitchen table. She looked up from getting him a cup of coffee, pushing it towards him. She paused and shrugged. "What's it mean?"

"Ask me in a few years," Tim said, sipping his coffee. That was overestimating it by about three years though. He had to find the right time and place. Preferably when he could actually marry Garrity. He turned around when Gracie came inside. "I apologized."

"Good," Gracie said, hopping up onto the stool at the kitchen island, smiling at him. "Will you take a picture for me please?"

"Sure." He smiled when she took a picture of him and frowned, pointing to her phone, which she was tapping away on. "Um…what's with the picture?"

"And the phone! That's for emergencies!" Tami exclaimed, reaching over to snatch the phone, but not before there was a 'whoosh' of something getting sent off into cyber world. Tami glanced at the screen, rolling her eyes and dropped it onto the counter. "Gracie Taylor. You should be ashamed."

Gracie giggled, jumping off the stool. "What? They wanted to see if I was telling the truth."

What truth, Tim wondered, glancing at Tami, who was deleting whatever it was on the phone. Even Coach was looking up, scowling. "This didn't happen before you got here," he accused. "My daughter wasn't giggling and using the phone when she knows she shouldn't. What did you do Gracie?"

Tami rolled her eyes, dropping the phone into her purse. "Sent his picture to all her friends and posted it on Facebook as the hot cowboy from Texas."

The what!? Tim stared at Gracie, who was giggling again. He rolled his eyes, lifting up his cup of coffee, mumbling. "I liked you better when you weren't talking to me. And I'm not a cowboy."

"It really doesn't matter," Gracie said.


	12. Fourth Destination

**A/N:**Thanks so much for the reviews! Enjoy :)

* * *

**Chapter 12: Fourth Destination**

"I need to talk to you."

Damnit, Tim thought, cringing as Claire pushed him by the shoulder and out onto the porch. He was freezing. He glared at her. "What kind of a person lives in a house in Cape Cod in the winter?"

"People who like the cold but grew up in Charleston and who have rich parents that can pay for it," Claire answered. She was annoyingly direct, Tim thought. It reminded him of Tyra, but Claire just seemed very pompous about it. Tyra didn't have that air about her. She tossed her pale blonde hair over her shoulder and crossed her arms. "I'm surprised you guys decided to drive up here."

Yeah, so was he, but they were planning on dropping into New York to visit Jason, who said they might as well stay way for a few days because Erin was out of town on a last-minute business trip and she wanted to see them. So they bypassed New York, dipped into the Poconos for a day and then fell down to Cape Cod, where Claire was spending her winter break, hiding from her family in a rented beach-house.

It was freezing, it was raining, and Tim had never seen the Atlantic Ocean before, but what he saw made him have second thoughts about running to dip his feet into the water like Lyla and him had done when they saw Lake Michigan and Lake Erie. The beach was frozen and the waves looked like moving daggers of ice. He only planned on two days before they went back to New York. If he was this close to D.C., they also had to see Tyra or else he'd never hear the end of that from her. The rest was up to them.

He kind of wanted to go back through Ohio, he thought; visit the Pro Football Hall of Fame, Lyla said it was there and they should have gone anyway, but unfortunately Julie had told her parents they would see them within two days and Eric and Tami were planning on their visit. He hated having plans.

"Are you even listening to me?"

Brought back to Earth by Claire's snapping voice, he shrugged. "No, I'm really not," he answered truthfully. Tim rolled his eyes and leaned against the porch railing. It was so freaking cold; it felt like the ocean spray was hitting him, it was so cold and icy out right now. "What do you want Claire? Trust me, it's nothing I haven't heard already from my friends."

Claire scowled. "I'm actually giving you a compliment, as hard as it is Tim. She seems better. I've been talking to her as much as I can, with all my studies and stuff and she really seems a lot better." She scowled harder, forming more of a sneer. "But she also told me that you called Jackson. What are you an idiot or something? You made it worse!"

"And he's backed off, okay?" Tim retorted. He walked by her into the house, done with the conversation. It was a two bedroom bungalow with seashells and a fisherman theme everywhere. He walked by the fireplace, which was positively roaring, and Ewok stretched out like a curly rug in front of it. Lazy dog, he thought, walking up the creaking spiral staircase to the top floor. He found Lyla in their bedroom, which was cramped and had slanted ceilings, but a small balcony looking out at the beach. She was sitting outside, her arms around her knees. He opened the door. "You're going to get pneumonia, come inside."

Lyla looked up, smiling. "Claire gave you a compliment. Hell's frozen over."

"You're going to freeze over, come inside."

"It is not that cold Tim, it's like forty degrees."

"That's freezing!" She'd been out of Texas too long; she was starting to lose her mind, in his opinion. Tim pushed her back into the room, reaching for her hands and rubbing them in his to warm them up. "You're like a popsicle."

"I'm fine," Lyla said. She looked up at him, smiling wide again. "You are ridiculous. By the way, Paul called. Seems like Human Resources has made up their mind and their final report is that I didn't do anything wrong."

I told you that it would all flush out. It just was stupid to have to wait on it, he thought. "See?" he said, shrugging. "It all worked out. When do you have to be back at work?"

"They're giving me paid leave now, so not until after New Year's, which is fine, but…" Lyla sighed, rubbing at her arms and whispering. "I miss the kids. Gosh, I'm going to be so happy to get back there."

He frowned a little; oh, so they…did they have to hurry up or something, he wondered. He shrugged. "Well we can probably be in Texas by Christmas Eve if we leave tomorrow…"

"What?" she laughed. Lyla shook her head, reaching to wrap her arms around his neck. "No, that's not it. I'm fine, I'm fine Tim, this is really fun. We can spend Christmas wherever we happen to be, so long as I'm back in my office in Austin on January 2."

Well then that sounded okay, he thought, quirking his lip up in a half-smile. He waited a moment, looking down into her eyes. They were no longer shadowed. She really was doing better. If she wasn't almost 100% anyway. Especially now that she knew she could return to work and Jackson hadn't done any permanent damage with its pathetic attempts to get back at her. Tim dropped a kiss to her lips. "You're showing him, just like I said you would."

She nodded, running her palms over his chest to stop beneath his shoulders. She released a long breath, glancing sideways. "It's just…" She shook her head, still not lifting her eyes to his, but stared out the window at the ocean. "It's just I want to make it faster…you know? The marriage is over and it's been over for almost a year. It's sad and I'm sad about that, but this guy isn't who I married." She looked up, smiling again. "We've been through that. It just…I just want it over as soon as I can. I just wish he seemed to want it over as much as me. So he can get on with his life and stop being sad and everything." She patted his chest again. "Seems like he needs his own Tim Riggins."

Yeah, Tim thought, watching her leave. It seemed like this was just a technicality now, her official married status. Hell Garrity we wouldn't be here if you had never married him, but oh well. They could very well still be sitting in their respective corners, too terrified to leave and just looking at each other thought. At least her marriage and divorce had led to them pretty much confirming that they were going to be together soon.

He removed his phone from his backpack, checking messages. Buddy had called. What's that about, he wondered, holding the phone to his ear as it rang the bar. He closed the door to a crack and sank into a wicker chair in the corner. "Buddy's Bar," Angela Collette chirped after several rings.

"Hey it's me," he said, already knowing that she'd recognize his voice. He spoke over her shrill 'Tim!' screech, closing his eyes tight. "Yeah, yeah it's me Angela, where's Buddy I need to talk to him."

"Hang on a second sweetheart." She barely pulled the phone from her mouth before she screamed for Buddy. "He's here Tim."

Thanks, I'll need a new ear drum. Tim raked his fingers through his hair, reminding himself again to have Lyla chop it off, especially since he'd gone ahead and done the favor for her. Buddy answered a second after Angela finished yelling for him. "Hey, you called me, what's going on?" he asked.

"Oh did you know Lyla's sister lives in New Jersey now? You should stop and see her. I don't know if Lyla knows." Buddy sighed. "So how our girl Tim?"

Our girl? Since when has Lyla been our girl? He skated over that comment. "She's okay. Her job called, seems like she can go back and stuff. Jackson's a dick though, he's still protesting and stuff. Kind of got on her case a few days ago." Which was partially my fault, but we won't get into that, Tim thought. "So where in New Jersey is her sister?"

"I don't know, ask Lyla. So she's okay? She's not doing that thing where she pretends everything's going to be perfect?"

Actually she alternated between sleeping and feeling sorry for herself, so no, she's not doing that thing where she thinks everything's going to be perfect. I think she's moved beyond that defense mechanism, Tim thought. He shrugged. "Nope. She's good. Did a little thing to her hair though…"

"Oh God. She didn't dye it pink or anything right?"

No, not at all, Tim thought, smiling quickly. "Just a little change, it's good."

"Good," Buddy sighed in relief. "That's good." He waited a moment and then sighed again. "Tim Riggins I'm glad you're with her. Just like I'm glad she was there for you. After Jackson, who I never liked, I just want her with a good guy and well…I don't like saying this on the phone but that guy I think is going to be you."

Well Buddy Garrity that is probably the nicest thing you've ever said to me, Tim thought, his eyes widening slightly. He tried to smile, but all he could do was frown and clear his throat. "Uh…thanks, I…I guess…thanks Mr. Garrity."

"Tim at this point you can call me Buddy."

And that's the second nicest thing you've ever said to me. Hell really has frozen over, Tim thought. He smiled again. "Thanks Mr. Garrity, but I don't think I can do that. Anyway…I gotta' let you go. We're in Massachusetts right now, in case you were wondering."

"How are the Taylors?" So that started another conversation, even though Tim tried to end it several times. He finally managed to get off the phone after claiming that Lyla was calling for him, and hung up.

The door pushed open and Claire leaned around it, knocking her knuckles on the frame. "Hey, do you eat seafood?"

"I see food and I eat it," he said, using one of the oldest jokes in the book while he drew up another phone number. He glanced up at her, shrugging. "Whatever. I eat food. Go get food."

"You're an idiot I just wanted to know," she scowled. She narrowed her eyes. "Who are you calling?"

"Jackson."

"You truly are an idiot, isn't she still mad at you for doing that the first time? You're just going to go ahead and do it again? By the way," Claire continued, stepping completely into the room and closed the door behind her. Well just come on in, Tim thought sarcastically, hitting the green button on his phone screen to call. She kept talking, even as the phone rang on speaker. "I already talked to that asshole. He's just a pathetic excuse for a human who is trying to get back at her because he screwed up that marriage in the first place and now she's winning the fight, what are you doing?"

"This is Dr. Jackson Thorne," Jackson's deep voice answered a moment later. Claire snapped her mouth shut, glancing across the phone, which Tim held outstretched in his palm so they both could speak into it. Jackson paused. "Hello?"

Let's see if this works, because this idea is still barely forming in my mind. "So you want Lyla to call me off, huh? Not going to work Thorne."

Jackson paused again. "Tim Riggins."

"The one and only," he answered, smiling and wiggling his eyebrows at Claire. He cleared is throat. "So I'm not doing so great Jackson, because I called you and hoped that we could see eye to eye, but apparently you don't love Lyla as much as you seem to want her to think you do."

"I love her," Jackson snapped, interrupting him.

Claire rolled her eyes; it was apparently too much for her to handle. "Oh please Jackson. You proposed to her after only six months of dating and she was married to you within three. You don't even know the woman you claim to love, because if you did, you would have backed off long ago and just let the dissolution go. What, did that Sarah chick dump your ass before the ink was dry on the papers and you thought that if you couldn't get your way you'd get back at Lyla?"

Jackson sighed. "Claire. Nice to hear from you. What are you guys doing? A tag-team affair?"

"Call it Team Garrity," Tim said. He cleared his throat again. "You know the hospital cleared Lyla. She gets to go back to work in a few days so that didn't work. She also told me that she actually was in love with you. To be honest I don't think you deserved someone like her. She seems to agree, she's not going to let you win this Jackson so just stop it."

"You just want to marry her Riggins."

"You know, you keep saying stuff like that," Claire chimed in, cocking her head and looking at Tim. She smiled a little, her voice softening. "I know full well that you didn't even know who he was Jackson. Not until after the divorce. Did you ever really think that Lyla was going to cheat on you with someone from her hometown?"

"Well she's doing it now."

Claire didn't care, continuing and pretending she didn't hear Jackson. "You know I was there when you married her Jackson. I know you loved her. I know you're hurt and I know that you want to blame someone so finding out that Lyla is engaged to her high school boyfriend, who she didn't start seeing again until after you guys were well into the dissolution paperwork…you probably still felt al ittle betrayed. How could she have moved on so quickly? Especially since you guys did love each other one time. But she did. She did because you know deep down that she was in love with someone else. Someone she just couldn't be with and then…well your school and internship and Lyla's Ph.D. studies…it was just too stressful. It just didn't work out and you both went your separate ways. You wanted to get back at her. You were angry and upset and so you did some stupid things and you're trying to get back at her. It's sad Jackson. Let it go because the only person you're hurting is the only person you claim to love."

What the hell was she doing, Tim wondered, cocking his head at her. He frowned. Engaged? He was about to whisper that they weren't engaged and was already shaking his head when Claire reached her fingers up to push against his lips, waiting a moment and turning her ear to the phone. Tim waited, his breath held in his throat. What was going on? Jackson wasn't protesting. Hell, if it were him, he'd be protesting.

Jackson cleared his throat. "Engaged?" He croaked out. "Lyla's…she's engaged? Is that true?"

Tim swallowed hard. "Yes."

"I didn't know that."

"Would it change your mind if you did?" Tim said, frowning a little. He swallowed hard, wondering if Claire wasn't as crazy as she seemed to be in this moment. He shrugged. "She just wants to move on Jackson. That's all she wants and she's sorry, you know that she is. That's why she's not fighting the way that you want her to fight. The way she will fight if you keep this up."

Jackson laughed. "You guys are real rich."

"Let it go," Claire said. She shrugged, her voice dropping to a sympathetic whisper. "Jackson just call off the lawyers. Let it go and move on with your life. You may have been hurt and you want to take it out on her, but you love her. I know you still do and she just wants to be happy and she just wants to move on. Please."

Yes, please, Tim thought, still holding the phone tight in his hand. He waited, biting his lower lip. After a long, silent moment, just static coming from the phone, Jackson groaned. "Okay. Okay fine. With a condition."

"What condition?" Tim asked. That depended. Claire shook her head, reaching to still his hand when he went to turn the phone's speaker off. He sighed. "Fine. Whatever."

"I'll call my lawyer."

It worked, Tim thought, disconnecting after Jackson hung up. He grinned and slapped his hand against Claire's, which was already coming towards him for a high-five. "We make a good team," he said, grinning. He never would have thought to have her get involved in the conversation. All he was going to do was tell Jackson to go to hell and try to tell him off again, but when he saw her walk inside the room, he figured what the heck and put it on speaker phone. Turned out the gamble worked.

Claire squealed, jumping up in the air and wrapped her arms around his neck, swinging like a monkey. Seeing as she was almost as tall as him, it was kind of heavy and he felt like he was strangling, but he hugged her back, grinning. Now if only Jackson followed through, he felt like saying. "Oh my gosh, I can't believe we did it!"

"What are you two doing?"

They both jumped away from each other, practically to either side of the room. Claire was breathless and her pale cheeks flushed. "Ah, just celebrating something. I do like this guy Lyla, I haven't seen him in awhile."

Lyla squinted, staring at her best friend. She waited a moment; Tim could see the gears working in her head. The little purse of her lips and her squinty look; she was jealous and wanted to warn Claire off. You're so predictable Garrity, he thought, smiling a little. After another moment, Lyla spoke, rambling. "He's a social alcoholic who has sinned every single day of his life, is usually not sorry about it, has an extremely complex moral code which entails breaking the law if it means protecting someone, and he's probably slept with over 100 women. Once with sisters. At the same time."

Tim looked at Claire, whose eyes widened, staring him in shock. He shrugged. Not like he was proud of it, but hey, it was the truth. "It's true," he said. He pointed to Lyla. "But she's the one."

Claire shook her head in disbelief, laughing and smiled at Lyla. "Sweetie, I love you, you're my best friend, but trust me…even if I didn't know any of that information, I would never horn in on your guy." She walked over to Lyla, smiling at her and giving her a side-hug. "We were just celebrating how well you're doing. Let's go into town to celebrate."

Lyla waited until Claire left before turning to glance back at him. "What were you guys doing?" she murmured.

"Nothing. Did you know your sister lives in New Jersey?"

"Yes, but she's visiting my mother in Napa for Christmas, why?"

"Your dad mentioned it. I called him to check in and see what was going on," Tim lied. He lifted his eyebrow, grinning. She would find this amusing and it would get her off his back for wanting to know why him and Claire were collaborating together. "By the way, I think he wants us together. It's weird. I don't think I like it."

She smiled, crossing her arms over her chest. "He mentioned something to me about how he would like a son-in-law that didn't wrack up debt just to stick a thermometer in people and say they're fine, but one who was a successful businessman." She smiled wider. "Even said he wouldn't mind if I brought home a felon so long as he was reformed. I kind of wonder if he's losing faith in my choices in men."

"Might just be," Tim teased. He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her temple. "You okay?"

"I feel great," she answered; he believed her. She pulled back slightly, but kept her arms around his waist. She cocked her head, the bangs on her forehead falling sideways a bit over her eyebrow. Her voice softened. "I feel like this has been good for me. I want to drive around some more…going back now…I'm glad I have my job and I feel sorry for Jackson and…and I will do anything to make this go away and just get my life back, but right now it feels good to be here with you." She smiled again, whispering. "Kind of a contradiction."

You're not feeling sorry for yourself anymore, that's all I ask for at this point, Tim thought, turning her around towards the door. "Let's go find Claire."

"I'm glad you're getting along with her. She's my best friend."

"Thought I was your best friend." They left the bedroom, walking down the stairs; it sounded like the whole house was creaking, he thought, dropping to the last step. He frowned when Lyla reached for her coat and a scarf. "What are you doing?"

"Going outside. I want to play in the sand-snow."

"Should be interesting," Claire said from the living room, gesturing to the television, which had a massive storm-warning banner flashing on the bottom of the screen while a weatherman gestured to a colorful map of the Cape Cod coastline. She smiled. "There's a pretty big snowstorm coming through. Go outside and play while you can. I checked and we have batteries and everything in case the power goes out, but I will put this out there because no one else is going to say it." She pointed at the both of them with the television remote, growling. "You guys will remain dressed. I am not going to be huddling in my room trying to survive while you guys are making babies."

"We don't do that Claire," Lyla said, chastising her friend as she tugged a beanie over her head. She reached for his coat and beanie, throwing them at him. "Come on. Let's go before the snow."

Whatever, he thought, bundling up in the heavy pea coat that she'd gotten him back in Oklahoma; he was glad that she'd chosen it because he certainly wouldn't have and his denim shearling coat he'd had since high school wouldn't have held up against this weather. He pulled his hat low over his ears and reached for his gloves, pulling them on as Lyla opened the back door onto the porch.

They walked down a series of stairs to the beach; the house was on stilts, which he thought was silly, but Lyla said it was for storms and hurricanes. He guessed that made sense. Still was kind of silly looking. Like the house had legs. He walked slowly alongside her, scowling when she moved towards the ocean. "Lyla," he warned.

"Relax, I'm not jumping in, it's freezing." She glanced over her shoulder and held out her arms, lifting her face up to the sky. She released a long breath. "It's wonderful out here. So wild and free."

Tim glanced down the beach; it was kind of rugged. He figured it'd be more commercial. "It's nice. I like the ocean." It didn't seem to end. Kind of like Lake Erie, when they stopped there. And that was the small lake, Lyla told him. More like a sea, he thought. He looked out at the ocean again. "What's that out there?"

Lyla followed where he was pointing. She lifted her finger, pointing at it. "That's a lighthouse."

"In the ocean!?"

"No," she laughed. She shook her head and pointed. "You can't see it because it's cloudy and so far out there, but that's part of the coastline. The lighthouse is out at the tip of the coastline." She smiled again. "I think living in a lighthouse would be so cool. They live there you know, the lighthouse keeper. Seems like it would be lonely, especially if you were in a lighthouse that was out in the middle of the ocean or something, but…seems like you could be with your thoughts." She glanced up at him, squinting again. "You would make a good lighthouse keeper."

"No oceans in Texas, Garrity."

"I forgot, yes, you won't ever leave Texas."

He shook his head, which had her eyebrows lifting in surprise. "I'd leave," he said. He smiled a little, walking along the coast. He glanced at her again. "Visited you in Nashville. I've seen Six since he went to New York and…and then this trip."

"So a grand total of three times in the last six years?"

Well maybe he wouldn't leave Texas for a long time, but he would leave. Maybe not forever. Tim shrugged again. "Are you done with everything? You know…you're in Austin, but…" He glanced at her again, speaking over the sound of the heavy waves crashing against the shoreline and the wind whipping around them. It made him realize that her hair really was gone; one of his favorite things was seeing her hair whipping about her face, like she was wild.

It was lucky she knew him well, because he wasn't sure what he was asking and didn't know how to put it into words. Lyla knelt in the sand and picked up a rock, dusting some snow and dirt off of it. She walked towards the water, just where the wet packed sand barely hit the dry snowy sand and tossed the rock into the water. She knelt and picked up another, doing the same.

Tim walked over, joining her and picked up a piece of driftwood. He turned it over in his hands, marveling at how smooth it was. Interesting. He chucked it into the water, where it floated for a moment, just to come right back to shore. "Cool," he murmured.

"I'm not done, but…but I think that you can handle it."

Huh? He glanced at her again. "What?"

"Everything I want to do. There's no way I'm done," Lyla whispered. She smiled and threw another rock, falling back on her heels. She looked up, shrugging. "I want to go back to Europe and I want to visit Israel. I've never been and I want to go. I want to go to Peru and walk the Inca Trail. I want to work in New York City and I want to take a trip up the Pacific Coast Highway. I want to…to help kids everywhere and I want to do one of those Doctors Without Borders trips and help kids with injuries who can't help themselves and…and I want to testify in front of Congress for more federal money for sports medicine programs and grants and I want…" Lyla laughed, throwing her arms out and yelling. "I want kids and I want to get married outside in the snow…what are you doing?"

I'm kissing you, what's it look like I'm doing, Tim thought, grabbing her around her waist and lifting her up. If only to shut her up; he was sure she could go on forever. Lyla Garrity wanted a lot of things out of life; he was sure she'd get them all. He broke the kiss a few seconds later, smiling against her lips. Their breath came in hard puffs. She swallowed nervously. "You're so cold we could stick together," she mumbled.

"Would that be a bad thing?" he asked.

"Probably not," she whispered, kissing him again. She stepped back, her eyes focused on his. Clear; no longer cloudy, like before, he noticed. Time away did the body good. "You would stay?"

He cocked his head. What did she mean by that? "Stay?" he whispered.

She nodded, crossing her arms nervously. "Would you…it would be…it would be a different life, I mean…if I…if I went to Africa or South America or something for work or…or I took a job in another state…just for a few years? Would you wait for me? Would you stay?" She trembled, her lower lip protruding slightly and her forehead wrinkling in concern. "I know we've been talking like this is inevitable Tim, but you asked…I'm not done yet. I don't know when I will be and it would be unfair to put this off, so…so it would have to be while we're together."

And I will stay. He walked along the coastline for a moment, stopping and kneeling, reaching for something sticking out of the sand. He dusted it off, smiling a little at the perfect pink shell. He stood, turning and giving it to her without saying a word and walked some more.

Hell, he didn't think it would be possible but he was getting used to the cold. It wasn't as biting. He glanced at her again, walking quietly alongside him, still holding her shell in her palm. "I'd wait," he said. It was a definite answer. He shrugged, still looking ahead and out at the ocean. He sighed hard. "I'd wait, okay? I'd wait for you if you went to Africa. I'd go with you…probably not for very long if you went somewhere else, but…" Tim shrugged. They'd gone through a lot worse. He stopped and glanced down at her. "I work too Garrity. So maybe I won't go for long, but…I have what I have and if you were there it'd be pretty great too." He smiled a little, whispering. "Even if it'd be a bit boring."

"You're never bored," Lyla said. She turned, beginning to walk back to the house. She forged ahead through the sand, moving away from the ocean as the wind picked up. She called over the sound of it. "That's good to know."

"What is?"

"That even if I leave for awhile, you'll wait around."

Hell, I feel like I've been waiting around this whole time, Tim thought. Especially after he found out about her divorce. He jogged to keep up with her fast movements. "Why are you walking so fast?"

She didn't answer, but practically took off at a run to the house. Tim caught up with her, stomping his feet on the bottom step leading up to the house. "What the hell Garrity? Where are you running?"

"I won't say!" She hurried into the house, shrugging off her coat and running to the couch, whipping a blanket off the back of it and curling up in front of the fireplace, reaching for Ewok. She glared over her shoulder. "I'm not saying."

Tim laughed, closing the door behind him. "You're cold! I told you it was freezing out there!"

"Shut up! It just got colder all of a sudden, I don't know why!" Lyla burrowed under the blanket, looking up and smiling. "Come under here."

"Got something to do," Tim said, reaching for his phone. He sent a message to Tyra, to let her know they'd be wandering around her neck of the woods in the next week and then let Jason know they'd be on the way to see him after the storm. He went to the floor to join her, looking up when Claire walked in the room, frowning at them both. "Go away."

"Shut up, I'm going to make soup. Put a movie in or something."

Lyla hooked up one of her technological devices to the television, queued up some program, and within minutes, a movie was playing. Ewok jumped up and began to bark in his raspy little voice, howling as best as he could at the sound of children singing. Tim frowned. "What is this?"

"Charlie Brown Christmas," Claire and Lyla said at the same time. Lyla poked his shoulder. "Shut up, we're watching it."

He scowled; he didn't want to watch a cartoon. Within minutes though, he was stretched out on the couch, Lyla sitting on the floor in front of him, engrossed in the movie. He swore even Ewok was watching. He glanced over at her, smiling and reached his fingers out, stroking them through her hair. Short and spiky, but it was still kind of soothing. I love you, he thought, burrowing deeper into the couch.

Lyla got up when the movie finished, going upstairs to change into something warmer. He scanned through her phone, checking to see what movies she had in her lineup that he'd actually want to watch. Claire leaned over the back of the couch, folding her arms in front of her. "So you're not half bad," she said.

He didn't look up from the phone. "That your stamp of approval?"

"No." She paused and smiled, her voice soft. "My stamp of approval was six years ago when I didn't kick you out of my house. My stamp of approval was when I helped you get Jackson off her back for once and for all and my stamp of approval is saying that you love her like crazy much and she loves you, so I will say this for once and for all." Her voice dropped and Tim swore the Southern accent just made the death threat sound cute and funny, rather than serious. "I will kill you. I already have gotten back at Jackson and he doesn't know how yet, but I will kill you even if it's a sin and even if I have to devote my life to God's service, I will do it. So help me."

He smiled, looking up at her. "Thanks Claire."

"I hear you're not a bad cook. Come help me."

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"Not in the mood," Tim said, finding a movie he wanted to watch. He pointed her phone to the TV and within seconds, his favorite Christmas movie was on. He was already laughing when Lyla came downstairs, rolling her eyes.

"National Lampoon? I wanted to watch Miracle on 34th Street."

For the next few minutes Claire and Lyla tried to convince him to change the movie to something they wanted, but he refused. Lyla finally sank down onto the couch beside him, folding her arms around her knees and focusing on the TV. She began to laugh, in spite of herself, and soon she couldn't stop. Good, he thought, even though it wasn't that funny. But it was just nice to see her laughing. Ewok jumped up beside him, curling up in his arm. He scratched the dog's head, smiling and unable to take his eyes off of Lyla, even after the movie was over.


	13. A Turn in the Road

**A/N:**Thanks for the reviews! Enjoy :) The story is almost finished, FYI, it's not very long.

* * *

**Chapter 13: A Turn in the Road**

"Tim, hold me up!"

"Riggins what the hell, get her! She's falling down!"

"Oh my gosh Jason, this is so much fun! What a great idea!"

"Uncle Tim, look at me!"

There is so much going on right now, I can't focus, Tim wanted to scream, skating around the ice rink at Rockefeller Plaza, laughing when Lyla tried to push herself away from the wall, only to grab hold of it again, clearly terrified. On the other side of the wall, Jason shook his head at her fear, busy filming Noah on his phone. Noah was busy yelling for him to look as he spun around and Erin was shouting how fun it was. It was fun, he agreed, turning quickly on his skates.

He'd never been skating before, but he seemed to have a knack for it. It took one shaky loop around the ice before he felt like he'd been born on skates and was going backwards, forwards, sideways, and stopping like he was a professional hockey player. Natural athleticism, he figured. The other athlete, Lyla, was not faring so well. "Hold me up!" she shouted, trying to let go of the wall again.

"Aunt Lyla, it's not hard," Noah said, skating by her and offering his hand. "You can hold onto me."

"Thank you sweetheart, but I'm afraid I might drag you down," Lyla said, sputtering and slipping a little on the blades, tentatively pushing away from the wall; only to grab it again. She smiled apologetically. "Go on Noah, I'll be fine." Noah gave her a smirk before he took off; he clearly didn't think so.

His mother; however, was far more sympathetic. "Here," Erin laughed, reaching for Lyla's hand, lightly pulling her from the edge. Lyla slipped a little more, but held steady, her hand in Erin's, who was smiling, clearly having a blast. "It's just a lesson in balance."

Lyla scowled at him, gliding by backwards for the tenth time, his hands folded behind his back. He smiled serenely, clearly getting her goat. "Not for that one." She sneered, still clutching Erin. "What are you, part-Canadian?"

"Pretty sure that's a racist statement Garrity," Tim said, spinning around again to dig the knife in a little deeper. Lyla was far competitive than most people gave her credit for. Especially with herself, so the fact that she wasn't as natural on ice skates as she was doing most everything in her life, it was going to get to her. Especially since he was so good at it, but he also felt like saying that he'd been playing football since he was three-years old. It required balance and Coach Taylor had forced them to do stupid ballet type drills to keep up their technical skills during the off-season.

Jason laughed. "Not racist, but just stereotypical, thinking all Canadians can ice skate. I think Erin, your father is a testament to how that's not true."

"Yeah," Erin said, rolling her eyes. She smiled at a curious Lyla, explaining. "My father was born and raised in Vancouver before moving to New York and staying after he met my mom. The man cannot skate for his life, Noah is the one who has the skating talent in the family, right Noah?"

The ten-year old skidded to a stop beside them, grinning and showing off some missing teeth. "Totally. Hockey in the off-season from football." He moved by them, stopping at the wall and leaning over. "Hey Dad, can I go by myself around the rink? Mom and Aunt Lyla are holding me up and I want to go fast."

"Go," Jason said, waving his hand. "Enjoy. Just don't mow anyone down!" Noah waved his hand, weaving in and out of people with little regard to whether they began to stumble to avoid hitting him. He caught Tim's eye, gesturing with the phone. "Go make sure he doesn't get into any trouble. He's been eyeing that flock of girls on the other side of the rink for awhile."

Good man, Tim thought, wiggling his eyebrows at Jason and pushing off, ignoring Lyla, who was yelling at him to come back, since this was his idea and ignoring Jason, who was yelling that he didn't mean help Noah get the girls. He didn't listen, finding Noah after he'd woven through a group of tourists, and reached down to touch his shoulder as they glided by the flock of girls. "They're not good enough for you," he said, as they pointed and laughed at a kid that had fallen. Noah scowled. He shook his head, pointing towards a girl who looked about Noah's age, who was skating around slowly with a friend. "That one."

I'm picking out girls with a ten-year old, what has become of my life? Noah smiled up at him. "Why?"

"She's cute, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess. She's got glasses."

"And she's been looking at you." As if on cue, the girl turned her head, smiling shyly at Noah and then laughing with her friend, speeding up a bit before they stopped along the wall. The girl smiled at Noah and lifted her hand, waving her hand. It was in a red and blue striped mitten. Noah flushed, glancing back up at him. Tim smirked. "Told you." He nudged his shoulder. "Go ask her to skate with you or something. Get in the door."

"You going to tell my dad? He says I'm too young for girls."

Seriously Six? You were as much a heartbreaker as I was at that age. Tim rolled his eyes, dropping his voice so it was between the two of them. "Tell you what, I have plenty of stories to tell you about your dad. You don't tell him that I broke that award in his office this morning and I won't tell him that you're flirting with girls and I'll let you in on a story about your dad, a cow, and putting it in an opposing team's football stadium all night." He offered his hand. "Deal?"

Noah shook his hand. "Deal!"

Tim straightened up, remaining in place while Noah skated towards the girl, stopping at the wall and smiling shyly, saying something to her and her friend. They all laughed nervously and then the girl nodded, pushing away from the wall and skating alongside Noah. Ah, young love, he thought. Tim turned around, catching Jason's eye and held his thumb's up. Jason rolled his eyes, turning away to continue taking photos. Guess it wasn't that big of a deal that Noah was running off with a girl after all. He laughed, skating around the rink one more time. On his approach, he snagged Lyla around the waist from Erin. "Thanks, I'll take her," he called, as Erin screamed from the startling movement, skidding and flailing her arms to stay upright.

"Idiot!" Erin shouted after him. "Jason was right!"

Jason's always right about me, Tim thought, his arm around Lyla's waist and his free-hand holding onto hers. She leaned unsteadily against him. "If we were meant to skate, we'd be born with blades in our feet," she said.

"If that were true, we'd also have wings to fly. It's easy, just don't…don't lean on me so much." It was upsetting his balance. He moved his right leg a little, giving himself a wider stance for more balance. He tried to push her up, but she was getting nervous, her hands even tighter on his. "Garrity," he warned. "Garrity stop! Just stay on your feet!"

"I'm trying!" Her feet were starting to slide back and forth on the ice. Her eyes widened. "Tim, I'm slipping!"

"Just hold your balance!" It was too late, she'd hit a groove in the ice and rather than try to stay upright or let him try to balance her out, she let her body fall back, pushing against him. Their collective momentum had them flying backwards, falling onto the ice in a tumble of arms and legs. He closed his eyes as his shoulder took most of the impact, vibrating through him in a shock of pain. Damnit! "Garrity!"

While he yelled that she was such a klutz for someone who used to be so athletic, she was laughing. Of course she was laughing, he thought, shaking his head and knocking it back onto the ice. He smiled, looking up at the darkening sky. It was very bright. All the lights from New York City. He could see the Christmas tree out of the corner of his eye, looking over everything. "Sorry," she giggled. She rolled onto her side, using his chest to push herself up. The large red beret she was wearing had fallen in her eyes and she pushed it up with her fingertips, still grinning. "Whoops."

"Whoops? That's all you have to say?"

"I'm not the most graceful."

"You were a cheerleader!"

"And that was like a million years ago, I told you, I'm not the most graceful." She leaned down, kissing him lightly and sat up, turning onto her side and carefully managed to get to her feet, standing upright long enough to help him up. He looked down at her, holding her hands and grinned, leaning in and kissed her again. It felt for a brief moment like they were a real couple. Hell, maybe they were. I like kissing you, he thought, pulling back a moment later. Lyla smiled, her eyes sparkling. "Wow."

I know. He smiled. "This is fun."

"Being a tourist? Sure." She bit her bottom lip, glancing down at the ice. She cleared her throat and looked up again, whispering. "We should probably get off the ice. I'm getting hungry. I'm sure Noah is as well." Noah might be a bit preoccupied, Tim thought, spying the kid with his new friend. They were holding hands now. Cute.

He lightly tugged her towards Jason and Erin, who was now off the ice, sitting with Jason, waiting on them. "Come on," he whispered, carefully pulling her along the ice. He grinned. "Fun, huh?"

"It's a blast!" she snapped, sarcastic. She managed to stay upright long enough to make it to the edge of the rink, stumbling off onto the hard plastic mats. They returned their skates, walking over to join Erin and Jason. Lyla crossed her arms over her chest. "That was fun for the experience, but I think I'll stay off skates for awhile."

"What about you Riggins, you seemed like Wayne Gretzky out there," Jason laughed. He turned his phone around. "Check it out." He hit play, passing the phone to Tim, who held it up, cocking his head at his image on the screen spinning around and stopping. Huh. Didn't know he was that good. "What do you say about that? You're born and raised Texan. You've never skated before!"

Erin tucked her hair behind her ear, smiling up at him. "Maybe he's like a sports savant. You might have a new client on your hand Jason."

"Maybe I do," Jason mused, studying him. He took the phone back, smiling. "Naw. Tim's got his land, his business, and his house. He doesn't require much else, least of all a career as a hockey player."

I don't know about that Six, he thought, glancing at Lyla, who was on her phone, having stepped aside a moment ago when it began to buzz in her pocket. He still wanted a family to fill that land and house. He ran his hand over his hair, dropping it to his pocket. He shrugged. "So where's dinner going to be?"

Noah skidded over at that moment, leaning over the wall. "Hey Mom," he asked, breathless and his cheeks flushed pink. "Can Cassie come with us to dinner? Her mom said it's okay if she meets you and they're over on the other side, so come meet them." He waited a second. "Please."

Erin lifted a slim red eyebrow. She shook her head in disbelief. "You met a girl. And you already asked her out? Seriously Noah, play hard to get sometimes."

"Why?"

"Worked for your mom," Jason said, smiling at Erin, who rolled her eyes. He shook his head at Noah. "How did you meet a girl…" He slid his gaze to Tim, who was smiling. He sighed hard. "You were a wingman to a ten-year old. Riggins…" Tim simply smiled, watching as Jason and Erin went with Noah to meet Cassie and her parents. He turned his head, wondering whom Lyla was speaking with in such hushed tones.

They'd left Massachusetts two days ago. Claire had been almost inconsolable, saying that she was going to miss Lyla and she had to come visit her again at some point. Preferably when there wasn't a winter storm passing through. He'd just been glad to get out of there. Claire and Lyla had become a lot of girl for him and he needed some masculine influence and Ewok didn't count. Besides, Lyla was doing even better. She'd even made a comment about putting an end to the divorce for once and for all, since she hadn't heard from Jackson or Hannibal in awhile. Awhile being a week. Tim didn't ask what that meant, to put an end for once and for all, but he kind of wondered if she was going to put a hit out on Jackson or something, given how angry she'd been about it lately. It would also be a Garrity thing to do; she had a violent streak in her, so long as she wasn't the one getting bloody.

Might as well find out what's going on. He walked over to her, nodding to the phone. "Who is it?" he mouthed.

Lyla shook her head, holding up her finger. "Hannibal, what does that mean? You've said it like twenty times, what the…" Her eyes widened. "Oh. I see. Well…um, I'll think about it. Twenty…" She rolled her eyes. "Twenty-four hours? Are you kidding me? Fine. I'll talk to you after I've made my decision." She disconnected, shaking her head in disbelief. "Unbelievable," she mumbled.

Tim guided her from the bottom of Rockefeller Plaza, up towards the street. He stopped at a cart, got two cups of coffee, and passed her one. She needed it. It was also getting colder as the sky grew darker. "What did Hannibal want?" he asked, sipping his coffee in the funny little Greek cup.

She shook her head; took a sip of her coffee. A moment later, she looked up at him, as they began to walk slowly down the sidewalk. "Hannibal said he spoke with Jackson's attorney again. Seems like your little phone call just took about two weeks to get through his thick skull." Or that phone call Claire and I made a few days ago, he thought, ducking his head slightly. He looked up a moment later. Lyla smiled, unable to contain herself. "Jackson is willing to return to a dissolution if I…well…" Now she didn't seem too happy; her voice trembled a little, slightly unsure. "If I do one thing."

"What's that?"

Lyla took a deep breath, looking down at her feet. She crossed her arms over her chest, quiet. "He wants me to say that I was having an emotional affair during our marriage." A what? Tim squinted, silently questioning what that was. She shrugged, tired. "Basically he wants me to say that I married him despite still being in love with you and…and that I didn't physically cheat, but I wasn't invested in our marriage because I was emotionally involved with someone else." She continued quickly, even though that made little sense to him. "It's petty. He's not going to get any extra money or anything, and it's just…it validates him or something, I don't know." She sighed hard, whispering. "It's just not him. I…I guess I really didn't know him after all."

No, I can't say you did, if this is how he's acting after you ended things. Guess that little comment he made during the phone call made sense now. Tim sipped his coffee, following her through the streets of New York. He reached into his pocket for his phone, stopping at the corner to send Jason a text that they'd meet them back at their Brooklyn row house that evening. It seemed like a nice night just for him and Garrity. His arm wrapped around her shoulders, walking down Fifth Avenue. "You cold?" he asked, a few minutes later.

"No, I'm fine." She pursed her lips. What are you thinking, he thought. He looked ahead, wondering where they were going. They were heading in the direction of Central Park. They'd spent most of the morning there, with Noah trying to climb every statue he came across, running in front of roller-bladers and bikers, and generally acting like the kid he was. It had been rather stressful.

They'd also gone to see a matinee of The Nutcracker, which he actually liked. Lyla had cried, he didn't know why. Erin had cried too. Must be a girl thing, he thought, continuing to walk in silence. When Lyla wanted to talk, she'd talk. He looked up at the lights and the buildings. New York was a neat place. "Have you been to New York before?" he asked, forgetting that she probably had, to see Jason at some point.

"A few years ago, yeah." She smiled sadly. "I didn't visit Jason. I felt bad afterward…we've kind of grown apart. Besides…" She sighed, smiling and rolling her eyes. "I thought it might be weird for Erin. To have her husband's ex-girlfriend in the same house."

"Jason doesn't care."

"It's different for women." Didn't you say that once before, he thought, a long time ago. It sounded the same. Lyla released a long breath, which came out in a puff of cold air. "I was also here for a few days and just…it was work and Jackson was with me. I thought it might be awkward for everyone."

"For Jackson, you mean?" Good Lord. Tim was aware more than ever how big of an asshole Jackson Thorne was. The entire situation just proved how big of an ass he really was. If I ever meet him in the flesh one day, it will not be pretty, Tim vowed.

Lyla shrugged, not speaking further on the topic. Suddenly, she smiled, looking at a carriage that walked by them, heading into Central Park. She spun around, her eyes lighting up. No, he thought, shaking his head in advance of her question. "Oh come on!" she exclaimed, stomping her boot on the ground like a child. She grinned, reaching down for his hands, swaying together. "It would make me very happy Tim Riggins if you did this with me."

"No."

"You like horses!"

"I don't like them pulling me in sleighs."

"It's a carriage, it's fun and romantic! Come on!"

He held firm, tugging her hand so she turned back to him. He leaned down, whispering against her lips. "I know you don't want my advice, but for what it's worth Lyla…" He touched his forehead to hers. Just say it Tim. It had been on the tip of his tongue for awhile now, but after what she'd said about Jackson a few minutes ago…just say it. He took a deep breath, speaking clearly. Gracie Taylor's advice, practically. "Give him what he wants."

Lyla squinted, but said nothing. Tim continued; he had to get this out before he lost the nerve. It was almost over. All Jackson wanted was this one thing…just end it, he thought. "Just give him what he wants Lyla. He's hurt. I told you, I've been there and it's not a great place and maybe one day he'll apologize for how he's acted to you or he'll regret it, but he lost you and I've been there and it's a bad place to be." I don't feel sorry for the guy; he's dealing with it in a shitty way. I moved on, I dealt with it in my own way, but…but it still sucked. He took a deep breath, continuing. "So give him what he wants to make it easier for him to deal with and so you and I can move on." He lifted his eyebrows and his lip quirking upward in a half-smile. "So we can move on together Lyla. So you can live your life. Hell, we can't drive around the country forever."

That should give her something to chew on, he thought. Tim let go of her, walking over towards one of the empty carriages waiting in line, reaching into his back pocket to pay for the hour of riding around the damn park. He waited a few minutes, stroking the neck of the horse while the driver made change for him. He turned around when Lyla approached, climbing up into the back. That was quick. He took his change, saving it for the tip at the end and climbed into the back with her.

It was freezing, he thought again, as they sat in the back together, but with a good six inches between them. He wrapped his arms around himself, looking out at the park, which seemed to be pretty well lit for it being pitch-black. They said nothing, silent. Just everyone in New York around them and the clopping sound of the horse's hooves as they rolled on by everything. Someone had to speak. Damnit, fine, I'll speak. He turned his head slightly, looking down at his hands. "Lyla…"

"I gave him what he wanted."

What? Tim blinked, lifting his eyes slightly. He closed his mouth. Oh. Well then. Lyla looked up, nodding and reaching to adjust her beret; it had become a nervous tic, to adjust whatever hat she was wearing rather than fiddle with her hair. She sighed hard, explaining. "I gave him what he wanted, as much as I didn't want to do it, but…I called Hannibal and said I'd stipulate that I was having an emotional affair during our marriage. It will be in the papers and all that. Hannibal has the official signed ones from Jackson…he'll express mail them tonight to Erin and Jason's house. I'll sign them when I get them and express mail them back."

So that was it then, huh? One signature on a piece of paper and it was over. Lyla spoke softly, continuing to explain. "Hannibal will send them to Jackson and his attorney in California. It will get filed and…and that will be it." She smiled, whispering. "All this pain and suffering and all I had to do was just say it was all my fault."

So why did you do it? Tim swallowed hard, asking that very question. "Why did you do it now?" he asked. He didn't seriously think she'd do exactly what he said.

Lyla moved to sit close to him, her arm linking through his. She reached forward for a velvet blanket, draping it across their knees and peered up at the dark sky. It began to snow, soft flakes falling around them, but Tim didn't feel them. He was too focused on her. She smiled, her eyes crinkling, still looking at the sky. "I didn't think about comparing it to you, but…" She sighed, whispering. "I was in a lot of pain, Tim, same as you. I told you before…" Yeah. He remembered, in her small townhouse in Nashville, years ago. "I didn't think about how…how you might understand what Jackson might be going through, even after you said it to me..."

It isn't the same thing. I'm just someone who has lost you. It sucked. Tim wrapped his arm tighter around her, dropping her head to his shoulder. He smiled. "He's going to call your work too?"

"He'll call. Even though their investigation is over, he'll call and say it was his fault and repair any further damage. I had Hannibal put it in there that he was responsible for that. So we both get our way, I guess." She sighed hard, whispering. It seemed like she was in shock. "It's over. It will be over."

"Good. You need to put him past you." We need to put him past us, Tim actually thought. He wouldn't say that though. It was implied. He reached around her shoulder to her left hand, lifting it out from beneath the blanket. His fingers pushed up at her glove, slipping it off so he could see the diamond ring on her left hand. I thought that the thing was too big, but he could see it fit perfectly.

A black diamond. Unique, like her. He pushed his thumb at it, smiling. Lyla tilted her face up to his, smiling softly. "I got it fitted in Chicago. Julie and I went, while you and Matt were having beer in the man cave one of the days we were there. It's probably what made her think that it meant more than…than I told her it did."

We should go back and visit them too. Maybe after their baby was born, he thought. He smiled, his voice quiet, thinking about that. "We visit Matt and Julie and they're having a baby. We visit Coach and Mrs. Taylor and they're still…still them. We visit Jason and Erin and they're dealing with Noah and…and all that…" he trailed off, unsure where he was going with this line of thought. Maybe it was how she'd said in Philly, about how they were seeing these different progressions of…of people together or something. Showing them it wasn't so bad. Like a sign, if you believed those things.

You're on the mend Garrity. You're so much better. You're going to go back to work, your ex-husband will now be gone and…and we'll be free to be…whatever we want to be. He licked his lips, glancing down at the ring again. They were waiting for…for the right time, they just kept telling themselves. He quirked his lip upward again, the thought crossing his mind again. We talk about babies, we pretend we're married…we see our friends all happy and…Tim smiled softly. What more did they need? It had been years. There was nothing to say but…but to just say it. "All I have to do is ask, right," he murmured, his thumb running over the ring again. He pushed it off her hand, holding it between his fingers. The black diamond glimmered in the light from the streetlamps.

Lyla tensed beside him. "Yes," she whispered. She nodded, looking up at him. Her eyes were wide; voice breathy. "All you have to do is ask."

"Okay." He clasped the ring in his hand, squeezing it tight. He smiled, an idea forming. She was going to be so angry with him, but it was a chance he was willing to take. "Okay then. Can I keep this?"

Lyla let out a breath she'd been holding. He smiled darkly. Yeah, he knew what she'd been thinking. "Are you…you…" she sputtered. She finally turned towards him, her eyes wide. "Are you freaking kidding me!?"

No. Why would I kid? The driver of the carriage turned slightly, frowning at them, but returned his gaze to the road a moment later. Tim smiled. He held the ring tight in his fist. She was livid; good, he wanted her mad. "What are you talking about?" he asked, playing stupid.

"We…you…I…" Get it out Garrity. He lifted his eyebrows again, smiling; highly amused. Lyla released a frustrated yell. "You're impossible Tim Riggins! We're talking about…about the end of my marriage in a few days and how we got to see Matt and Julie and Coach and Mrs. Taylor and all our friends are happy and married and starting families and…and you have the ring and you mention what I said about you asking and…." She threw her arms out, yelling. "We're in New York City at Christmas and it's snowing and we're in Central Park and there's a horse-drawn carriage!"

"So?"

"What more to do you what!? You just…you frustrate me!" Lyla yelled, turning away from him and crossing her arms like a petulant child. She rolled her eyes, reaching to hold her forehead in her hand, mumbling. "I can't be married to you. I'll be the one who finally kills you. Many have tried. Many have wanted it, but I'll be the one to do it."

Yeah, she'd be annoyed for a while. Tim twisted the ring around in his fingers, still smiling as they walked along in the carriage. He slipped it into his pocket, tipped the driver, who commented that he would have proposed, and walked away from Central Park with Lyla towards the subway. He remained silent, even on the ride to their transfer station and onward towards Brooklyn. They got off on the stop outside of the Brooklyn Bridge, which he really liked looking at. "Marvel of architecture," he commented, walking down the street with Lyla. She said nothing. "You're still annoyed," Tim said. He shrugged, speaking softly, even after Lyla had hailed a random passing cab. He climbed inside with her. "I don't want to be predictable."

"Forget it Tim. Just forget it."

They arrived several minutes later outside of Jason and Erin's row home. Lyla paid the cab fare and they climbed up the stairs to the front door. He punched the buzzer, standing in front of the frosted-glass front door, which opened a moment later, Erin smiling at them. "Where'd you guys go? We came back here for dinner. Noah's with his new little friend; turns out they live just down the street. Small world." Erin frowned slightly, glancing at Lyla's left hand. "Where's your ring?"

"Idiot here took it from me. I'm going upstairs to shower, I'll be back for dinner."

Erin glanced at him, her eyes narrowing. She turned her head slowly and crossed her arms. "What did you do?"

"I'm not going to be predictable," Tim announced, just as Jason wheeled himself into the foyer. He smiled at his best friend, reaching into his pocket and removed the ring. "Garrity knows I'm proposing. Can't be predictable."

Jason rolled his eyes, nodding towards his wife. "Let's just order Chinese. By the way Riggins, you're an idiot."

Oh I know, he thought, smiling to himself. He tossed the ring in the air, catching it and put it back in his pocket. I've never done this before, but Garrity had been engaged twice. Once to Street and once to her soon-to-be-ex-husband. They'd been together for far longer than her and Jason or her and Jackson. She'd helped drag him out of darkness and he was helping her with her own variation of it. I am not going to be predictable, Tim decided, following Erin and Jason into the living room.

Ewok hopped up into his lap when he sank onto the couch, kicking off his boots and propping his feet on the coffee table. He glanced at Jason, who had moved to a chair, stretching out his legs on an ottoman. "What do you think of Christmas?"

"I like it. It's in five days. Why?"

"I'm just wondering where I'm going to be on Christmas is all."

"You going to finally make an honest woman out of Lyla Garrity on Christmas?" Jason grunted, massaging out his calves. He shrugged. "Do what you gotta' do Riggins. By the way, I'm ordained, so I will marry you two."

"You're ordained? How?"

"Internet. Did it for some friends of ours," Jason said, nodding towards Erin, who came in holding beers for all of them. He tilted the bottle towards Tim, grinning. "There's no way in hell I am going to miss you guys finally getting hitched. Not like how you missed my wedding."

I was otherwise indisposed, Tim thought, scowling; he'd been in prison at the time. He continued to rub Ewok's ears, glancing away, his eyes darkening. Jason ducked his head slightly, while Erin just swallowed nervously, knowing what that reference had done. It's fine, Tim thought, allowing it to pass. He cleared his throat, whispering. "What's for dinner again?"

"Chinese," Erin announced, jumping to her feet to get the phone to call and order. Jason looked apologetic, shrugging and mouthing 'sorry.' It's okay, Tim thought. It's fine, I'm over it now. He continued to scratch Ewok's ears, turning his attention to the television.

"So uh…how, how was Philly, with Coach? I haven't talked to him awhile and you didn't mention it yet." Nice change of subject Six. Tim shrugged, turning his attention back to Jason, talking about Coach. About an hour later, when Chinese had arrived, Lyla came downstairs, and sat beside him on the couch. They'd be fine, he thought, passing her a wonton.

She took it, taking a bite and waited a few seconds, her voice quiet after she finished. "Where are we going after this? We could go back to Philly or maybe go back up to Boston, spend some more time with Claire."

He shook his head, his voice quiet. "I was thinking Washington, D.C."

"That sounds nice. Christmastime in the Capitol." She turned her fork around on her plate a few times, waiting until Jason and Erin had gotten up to take some of the remnants of dinner into the kitchen. She leaned against him, her voice soft and the top of her head brushing against his chin. "Do you realize…" She bit her bottom lip, shrugging and looking up at him. "Do you realize that it will be ten years…officially ten years?"

Yes, I do, he thought. He shook his head, pushing the slight twinge of anger and sadness, much like he had at Jason's vague mention earlier. "It's not worth thinking about Lyla," he murmured. He tried to smile, but it was hard; tight. He swallowed the lump in his throat. This isn't about me. "This is about you this Christmas. It's about you, not me."

She nodded, turning slightly towards the coffee table. Her voice filtered back to him, but she didn't turn her head to look at him. "I think…I think it isn't about me anymore, Tim." She turned her head over her shoulder, finally. A moment passed between them; tension-filled. We both want this, but we just have to be careful of the timing, Tim thought. It was always timing with them. Lyla smiled; it didn't meet her eyes. "I think this is about us. It's always…in the end, it always ends up being about us."

Yeah, it kind of does. He slouched into Jason's worn leather couch, drawing his knee up, watching her collect their plates and trash, taking it into the kitchen. Damnit, he thought, hitting his head back against the cushion. How the hell was he going to do this?


	14. Sixth Destination

**A/N:**Thanks for the reviews! :) Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 14: Sixth Destination**

"You cannot, I repeat, you cannot open this door when it is closed, do you understand me?"

Tim turned to look at Tyra, who was standing in front of him wearing a blood red evening gown, pointing to her bedroom door. He blinked, glancing sideways at Aiden, her longtime boyfriend, who was standing beside her and who just shrugged. "You know Tyra," he drawled, lifting his eyebrows, trying to keep from smiling. "When we stayed with Matt and Julie they put little mints on our pillows and when we were with Coach and Mrs. Taylor, they actually got us breakfast. None of them yelled at us. The difference is…enlightening."

"Shut up," Tyra said, slamming the door shut. She pointed to it. "It's closed. What does that mean?"

"It means when you and Aiden leave, I open the door and go through all your stuff and try to find out your dirty little secrets?" Tim asked, being stupid. He grinned when she punched his shoulder. "Ow! Come on, what's with you and Lyla always doing that?"

"It's your weak spot and we know it."

He stepped closer to her, dropping his voice to a husky whisper. "Tyra I think you know what my weak spot is and it isn't that." He reached out, flicking her earring, parting his lips slightly. "Remember?" It had the desired effect, because Aiden burst into a fight of laughter at Tyra suddenly speechless. She went cold and white, before sputtering and finally choosing to stomp her heel on his instep and push at his shoulders, spinning around and marching off down the large spiral staircase without a word.

Tim was laughing himself, but then Aiden stepped towards him. Uh-oh, he thought, taking a step back. Maybe he stepped over the line. Aiden laughed, clapping his hand on Tim's shoulder. "No seriously dude, that was hilarious, I love when she's thrown off guard, which never happens, and you've only been here like ten minutes!"

"I'll teach you how, it's really not hard," Tim said, leaning on the banister railing and wiggling his fingers down at Tyra, who was in the foyer looking up. He pursed his lips, making obvious smooching sounds. She stuck up a finger, immediately dropping it when Delilah, Aiden's daughter, wheeled herself into the foyer, asking what the yelling was about. He straightened up, quirking his lip at Aiden. "Hope you know it's all just fun. Her and I haven't…" He didn't want to say it; now it was getting awkward, he thought, cringing again.

Thankfully, Aiden was a cool and secure guy. "No it's cool," Aiden said, waving his hand. He shrugged, sighing and shaking his head. "Ever since I started dating Tyra I've come to find that relatives and friends of hers from Texas come in all shapes and sizes and to just roll with it. Besides, I know she really didn't like you."

"No, she probably didn't," Tim agreed, leaning back over the railing. He waved. "Hey Tyra, did you ever really love me?"

"There are days where I seriously question it. Now it's just a strange little bit of I want to kill you and at the same time I want to feed you. You're skinnier than a rail, get down here and eat!" Tyra yelled back up the stairwell. She turned her head to Aiden. "And do not listen to him about anything he tells you!"

They both waited until Tyra disappeared into the kitchen before straightening up again. Aiden glanced at him, walking towards the stairs. "You will finish that story about her that you were telling me last time, right? About the stripper pole and her first time getting truly drunk?"

"Oh count on it," Tim said, grinning. He stepped away from the railing, turning and jumping when Lyla appeared in the doorway to their room. It was pointless to pretend that they weren't sharing the same bed, even though he knew they would never be able to explain that in the three weeks they'd been driving around the country, they hadn't done anything together. He lifted his eyebrows, smiling stupidly. "What's up?"

"Were you flirting with Tyra a moment ago?"

I could lie and say no I wasn't flirting with Tyra. Or I could admit the truth, the whole truth, and suffer your wrath. He smiled, reaching over and touching the nape of her neck; her hair had noticeably grown in the last couple weeks, filling out a little more around her neck and ears. "You look really cute right now."

"Not going to work dude," Aiden said. He smiled, walking over to the stairs. "I'll come up in about fifteen minutes and look for the body."

Yeah, knowing Lyla she'll have eaten me whole by then, he thought, as Lyla slapped his hand away from her neck and stepped towards him. She pushed him into their bedroom, kicking the door shut. She flicked the lock and turned, reaching beneath his t-shirt, her nails raking up his back, a little harder than he liked, he thought, wincing as she dug into his shoulderblades. She arched her hips against him and brushed her lips against his. Her fingers trailed to his stomach and down over his abdomen.

Tim's eyes sprang open when she dropped them to his belt. "Um, Garrity are you…" Just as he was about to ask if she was sure about this, while a part of him was thinking it was still too soon, she removed her hand quickly, reaching to pat his shoulder. Wait…what, he thought, looking up at her.

She sat back on her heels, grinned, and then dropped a quick kiss to his lips, falling onto her feet again. "There's more where that came from, remember that." Oh I will, Tim thought, falling backwards onto the bed. Lyla walked to the door, but turned at the last minute, running towards him and giggling, tackling him into the hundred or so pillows at the headboard. "I trust you, I was just messing around." She kissed him hard, pulling back and touching her forehead to his, whispering. "What are we going to do tonight?"

"Take over the world," he teased, kissing her again. He reached beneath her sweater, fiddling with the hook of her bra. It would be so easy. So fast. They'd done it before. Record times in the locker room at school or in the front seat of his truck during lunch. All he had to do…no, he thought, groaning as she slipped off of him. "Come on Lyla."

"It's not time. It wouldn't be right." Lyla changed her sweater, reaching for a pair of boots and shoved her feet into them. She smiled. "Come on. Aiden, Tyra, and Delilah are going to a charity thing for Tyra's school. We get free reign and I want to go into D.C. and see the Christmas tree."

"It's nighttime."

"I don't care, I want to see it."

"We saw the New York tree."

"This is different, it's in front of the White House and there are lights and it's just supposed to be really pretty, so come on," Lyla said, pushing his shoulder. She tossed his coat to him. "Let's go."

Ugh, whatever, he thought, following her out of the bedroom and down the stairs. He slid the last few steps on the banister, hopping to his feet, and his boot heels clicking as he walked down the marble floor hallway into Tyra's massive kitchen. This house could probably fit about six of her childhood home. Plus his. Good for her, he thought, stopping when he saw the sight of her in a designer ball gown chugging a can of beer and holding a piece of pizza in her hand. He waited until she finished chugging, belched, and took a bite of pizza. "Classy," he said.

"Shut up."

"You can take the girl out of the trailer park, but you can't take the trailer park out of the girl," Tim continued, knowing it would earn him a slap upside the head, which he got, but did nothing. He looked at Delilah, who was giggling, sitting in a bright pink wheelchair and wearing a silver dress with white fluffy fabric underneath the skirt. He leaned on the counter, rolling his eyes and smiling. "Tyra was never in a trailer park, but she might as well have been."

"Tim that is stereotypical and judgmental of people who do live in trailer parks."

"Don't get her activist going," Aiden warned, taking a napkin from Delilah. He wiped her hands. "You ready to go to the party? I'll make sure you dance too." He looked up at Tim. "She's looking forward to her new princess bedroom, right D?"

That's right, he'd get started on it when he got home. Delilah nodded, smiling again, her voice soft. "Yeah, Daddy showed me a picture, but can you paint it blue and not pink? Blue's my favorite color."

"No problem. Blue is my favorite color too," Tim said. He flashed another smile. Poor kid. She grinned when he said that, pushing her chair back from the kitchen table and wheeling herself towards the front door, Aiden following behind her to help her out to their car. He waited a beat, glancing to Tyra, who was smiling after them. "What's wrong with her again?"

"Nothing's wrong with her," Lyla corrected, coming out of the bathroom off the mudroom. She picked up her bag, slinging it over her shoulder cross-wise. "Right Tyra?"

Tyra shrugged. "Right." She reached over for a thick velvet wrap of some sort, winding it around her shoulders. As she attached it to her shoulder, she spoke, quiet. "Delilah has cerebral palsy. She was doing well, but had a bit of a setback so she's in the wheelchair for now. She's not happy about it, so I'm sure she'll be out of it soon enough." She picked up a shiny clutch, holding it against her chest, shooting a narrow-eyed look at both of them. "Don't destroy my house."

"This is a house?" Tim asked, sarcastic.

"I worked my ass off for this house."

"I'm sure you did."

Lyla shrugged into her coat, zipping it up. "Both of you shut up. Come on Tim, let's go. We can drive into downtown."

"You'll have a bitch of a time finding parking, they shut down Constitution for construction around six," Tyra said, walking towards the front door, her heels clicking on the marble. She glanced at Ewok, who was sitting on the base of the steps, looking very at home in his new digs. She pointed to him. "He doesn't pee or anything in the house, right?"

"Only when I want him to," Tim said. He glanced at Ewok, nodding to the living room. "Go jump on the furniture." Ewok barked, took off, and when he looked over his shoulder through the large open area, he could see him rolling on the couch. He smiled at Tyra's glare. "He's fine Tyra, just don't leave any of your thousand dollar bags around."

"You just make sure he's not in a position to chew on those bags," Tyra said, stepping out onto the front stoop. She waited until they left and locked up the door. She walked down the walkway towards the drive, speaking over her shoulder. "The alarm code to the front gate and to the back door is my birthday, so you should remember that Tim. My neighbors are nosier than hell, so they will probably call the cops at some point when they see you, but otherwise, have a good evening. We'll be back when we're back."

They waited until Tyra, Aiden, and Delilah were pulling out of the drive in Tyra's BMW, when Tim realized something important. He shoved his hands into his pockets, rocking back and forth. Lyla sighed, annoyed. "You don't remember her birthday."

"Nope."

"Not even a little bit, huh?"

"Nope."

"You dated her for a year, are her brother-in-law, and you slept with her off and on again for like another year after that and you still don't remember?"

"Nope."

Lyla rolled her eyes, walking to his truck, smiling across the hood. "Do you remember my birthday?" she asked, only pretending to be exasperated. She was smiling, so he knew that she wasn't really angry or anything.

Tim grinned, climbing into the cab, and shoved the key into the ignition. "August 31." It seemed to surprise her that he actually remembered. He wasn't really proud of the reasons for remembering. He glanced sideways as they drove out of Tyra's gated community in some Virginia suburb of D.C. He headed out and down a street towards the highway, using his natural sense of direction, as he called it. He shrugged. "I remember your birthday because…" He paused. Did he want to tell her?

Turns out he didn't have to tell her, because she was already whispering the same thing he was thinking. "That was our first kiss. My birthday. My 16th birthday."

Yes, he thought, glancing sideways at her again. He didn't mention it again, merging onto the Beltway, which immediately became a parking lot. After they sat in the same place for twenty minutes, Tim hit his head hard against the back of the truck. "Stupid. Stupid. Stupid."

"Told you we should have taken the Metro. We'd have been there and back by now."

"I'm not ditching this truck. This truck and I have memories. If this truck could talk…"

"Okay, I get it," Lyla said, laughing. She reached for her phone as it began to buzz, while he got off at an exit, deciding to snake his way in through the traffic on side streets, which turned into an even bigger mistake. Huh, he thought, watching as traffic began to move. He didn't hear Lyla talking, until another fifteen minutes later when she let out a loud laugh. "Seriously?! It's done!? It's actually done? Oh my God, Hannibal you are the best. You are so, so the best…I will pay you. I will pay you everything in the world, thank you so much! Mail them to my Austin address, I should be there after Christmas, thank you…and the hospital is…oh thank God! I love you so much, Merry Christmas! Thank you!"

Sounded like good news, he thought, smiling at her as he managed to find a lane that was moving, having gotten back on the highway while she was speaking. "What's going on?" he asked.

"I'm divorced!" Lyla exclaimed.

His heart jumped. "Officially?"

"The judge signed the paperwork yesterday before court recessed for Christmas, Hannibal has the faxed version for me, he'll get the certified court copies after the holiday and I'm no longer married in the eyes of the law," Lyla said. She sighed, slumping down in her seat, staring out at the red taillights before them. "Wow," she murmured, her eyes closing. "I can't believe it's over."

Seems hard to believe, he agreed, saying nothing. She needed to decompress. A marriage ended. For good. It was something to celebrate for certain reasons, but he knew that Lyla was also sad about it too. Tim kept focused on the traffic, which lessened once they got to the actual downtown area. He pulled off and weaved through D.C., which was ridiculous, with all its one-way turns and stoplights on the sides and closed streets and construction. "Finally," he mumbled, finding a parallel parking space near the Mall. He shoved the truck in between two Smart cars and climbed out, walking over to the meter. "What the hell is this?"

"You use your credit card."

"That sounds legit."

She rolled her eyes, since he refused to use his credit card, which he never used anyways, on something as stupid as a parking fare. Once she finished, she clapped her hands, grinning at him. "Let's go see everything."

That sounds exhausting. Tim walked with her down the street. They had parked near the Smithsonian, apparently, and within minutes were on the National Mall. Holy shit, he thought, staring at one end, with the U.S. Capitol lit up completely. He glanced in the other direction at the Washington Monument. "Oh wow," he whispered.

"I told you it was worth it," she said, kissing his cheek. They began to walk along the pathways. It was snowing lightly and there was already a fine layer on the ground, but it didn't feel cold. Tim was surprised at the amount of people that were still around. Guess it was still a touristy time to visit, he supposed. They were quiet, crossing the street and walking up the hill to the Washington Monument. Lyla took pictures every few steps and then continued on passed the Washington Monument.

Have you been here before, he wondered, as she led the way, fully aware of where she was going, stopping at the World War II Memorial and the Martin Luther King Memorial. She kept going, pointing things out, explaining things to him, and saying that they'd come back in the daytime to go to the museums.

Tim didn't realize she hadn't spoken about the divorce until they were walking along the Reflecting Pool to the Lincoln Memorial and she finally said something that wasn't related to U.S. history. "So I'm a divorcee now."

It was so soft. He swallowed hard, nodding. "Yeah. Divorcee."

"It's really over," Lyla breathed, her arm tight around his. She touched her head to his shoulder, speaking soft again. "I'm actually divorced and…and we're actually here and…and it's all over. Jackson's gone and I can go back to work."

The road trip will be over, he assumed. They'd have to start going back to Texas. They had three days until Christmas. It would probably take them two straight days of driving. Like thirteen hours each day or maybe even just drive completely, switching off so the other could sleep…then it would be Christmas and she'd have to go back to work.

I don't want this to end, he thought, stopping in front of the Lincoln Memorial. "This is my favorite," he decided, right then and there, looking straight up the stairs at the lit-up pillars and the giant statue of Lincoln. It was really the only part of history class he could remember. The Civil War and what Lincoln did. He glanced at Lyla again. "This is my favorite."

"We haven't seen The White House yet," she whispered.

"I don't care." Tim began to walk up the steps, finally arriving at the top. It was still open, so he stepped inside and it felt immediately warmer, all the lights on. He waited until Lyla was beside him, and just looked at it. This is my favorite, he decided again. It was just…it was quiet. He liked quiet. Wasn't Lincoln just like a farmer or something? He was quiet too. It was like a big house, the monument. With the pillars up and everything.

He stood there for how long, he couldn't say. All he could think of was that this was going to be over. It was official. Lyla was happy, she was…she was divorced for good. Jackson may have done something stupid, but she'd just kind of rolled her eyes at that and moved on. She'd still be upset about the end of the marriage, but otherwise she seemed fine. Work would come back into her life soon.

And me…we've been talking about this forever, living in this little…little quiet bubble, he thought. He released a long breath, turning to look at Lyla. "Let's go," he murmured.

They left, exiting through the Vietnam Wall, which was spooky, in his opinion. It was silent. Talk about quiet. Moving, but silent, he thought, as they walked along the pathway. They meandered back through the Mall and to the truck. He drove a bit further into D.C., finding another lucky parking space and climbing out, walking a couple blocks to the White House.

Which was Lyla's favorite, she said, taking a couple of pictures. She had someone take their picture in front of one side of it, she said it was her favorite, with the fountain and the giant wreath and ribbons hanging from the eaves. When she had her fill, they returned to the truck and drove back to the house.

"Let's get something to eat," Lyla announced, as they got on the highway. She checked her phone. "Get off at this exit, it looks like there's a decent pizza place up ahead."

A few hours later, after eating dinner and driving back through some more traffic, they got back to Tyra's house. Lyla called Mindy to get Tyra's birthday, opening up the front gate and the back door, where Ewok shot outside and stood so long peeing that Tim wondered if he'd frozen.

"I'm going to bed," Lyla said. She glanced at the clock above the microwave, rolling her eyes. "Oh my gosh, it's only ten."

"We were outside forever, I'm freezing." Tim went upstairs, snagging some clothes to change into. A t-shirt and a pair of flannel pants. He was an old man, he was going to bed. He stepped out of the bathroom, stopping in the doorway, finding Lyla stretched out on the bed, her arms above her head. She was wearing a tank top and little else. "You forget your pants or something?" he asked.

"Take yours off."

"Okay." He shucked them, tossing them onto his backpack and duffel in the corner, crawling up into the bed in his boxers. "What's with this pantless party?"

Lyla turned on her elbow, smiling at him, her voice soft. "I just like looking at you."

"What's gotten into you?" he wondered. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, slumping deeper in the giant bed. Their room was huge. It was like a suite. Tyra mentioned earlier that she someone who claimed to be decorator but it had been a disaster, so she fired her mother and hired an actual designer who did the house exactly how Tyra wanted. It was nice. He stared up at the ceiling. "It would be weird. In Tyra's house?"

"Yes, it would be weird," Lyla agreed. She sighed, snuggling against him and smiling into his chest, whispering. "I want to go home."

That's what I thought you might say. It had almost been a goodbye of sorts to their little adventures as they were walking along the Mall. Quiet and reflective. He nodded. They'd leave in two days. If they pushed it, they could be back in Texas on Christmas. It would be two hard days, but they could do it. Especially if they traded off. To be honest, he was kind of sure that they both knew this would end with them driving into Dillon on Christmas Day. Three weeks of driving around the country. Well, through the Midwest.

He kissed her temple and waited; within moments, she was fast asleep. He slipped out from beneath her and put on a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt. He swiped the ring from an inside pocket of his backpack, shoving it into his pocket and slipped out of the bedroom. He closed the door carefully behind him, walking down the hall and pausing as Tyra said goodnight to Delilah. He tapped her elbow. "Need to talk to you," he whispered. This was kind of urgent; he wanted to do it now.

"Tim," she mumbled, wearing a pair of Ugg boots with her evening gown. She sighed, gesturing for him to follow her. "Stay put." She disappeared into her bedroom, said something to Aiden and walked out, wearing a zip-up hoodie over her dress. Tyra walked down the back staircase, tossing her hair, now a shiny bronze, over her shoulder. "So what's going on Tim?"

He took a deep breath, turning around, a little nervous. "I just want to talk."

Tyra waited a moment, thinking it through. She turned around, walking through the corridor to the kitchen, smiling a little. "So let's talk."

Yeah, Tim thought, blowing out a hard breath, looking at the ring in his hand, following her again. Let's talk.


	15. Pit Stop

**A/N: **Thanks for the reviews! :)

* * *

**Chapter 15: Pit Stop**

Tim paced for a few minutes, unsure how to proceed with this. He figured he'd just be nice. "So how was your party?"

"Pretty good," Tyra answered. She poured herself a glass of water, stepping around the large kitchen island and beckoning him to follow her again, leading him through the large living room, around a corner, down a hallway, and by a couple of other rooms into a large room off the house, kind of like a sunroom. "Have a seat, we won't be bothered."

Tim didn't want to sit, so he stood up, watching as she lowered herself into a half couch, half chair type of thing. He thought it was called a chaise. He smiled quickly, his voice soft. "You look really good Tyra."

She rolled her eyes, setting her water down across from her on a wrought-iron table with plants on it. "Tim, stop."

"You stop it," he said. He hated when she got like this. "Take off the tough girl act Tyra. I'm not flirting with you, I'm not…it's not like that, I'm serious, you did good. Really, really good." He walked around, sitting across from her and removed the ring, holding it up so she could see it sparkling in the light from the few lamps that were already on around them.

She swung her legs off the chaise, leaning over and took the ring from him. "Holy shit. This was what you got…"

"Yes, in Santa Fe."

"I thought you said you were returning it?" Tyra whispered. She shook her head, her eyes widened. "Tim this ring was like eight grand. That was your entire commission from the sale we made, it was supposed to go to the next one…" Always thinking like a businesswoman, he thought, taking the ring back from her and holding it again. She draped her arms over her knees, whispering again. "So Lyla seems good. I called Julie tonight…she said that she was kind of…spacy, when you guys were in Chicago a couple weeks ago."

"Yeah," he said. It was hard to explain. Tim shrugged. "She's been…what did you say? Spacy."

"You want to talk about it?" Tyra whispered.

"Not particularly."

"Fine." Tyra twisted her massive diamond engagement ring around on her left hand. Tim had noticed it earlier, when they got in the house, but she hadn't said anything and neither had Aiden. He figured it was going to happen eventually. They lived together; she was helping raise his daughter…she looked up again, smiling. "Look at us. Far, far from the kids we were in Dillon, Texas."

"We've been through a lot," Tim said. He turned the ring over in his palm again, swallowing hard. It was kind of nerve-wracking now. It was going to happen. Lyla was divorced. It was going to happen. He smiled, kind of stupidly. "I'm going to propose."

Tyra's hardened face broke into a wide smile. "You're going to propose." She rolled her eyes, lightening up the situation. "Finally."

"You have no idea," Tim said, looking up again. It was hard to explain. Not that he wanted to explain to Tyra. He shook his head again, whispering. "You have no idea what I've put her through…six years ago in Nashville…I thought she was going to kill me for showing up." It wasn't worth going through again. He smiled a little, hiding behind his hand, whispering. "But she called me."

"Well that's good," Tyra whispered. She shrugged, folding her hands in her lap. "It's good Tim. She called you, she knew you'd help, I…I don't know what you want me to say, I mean, you're good you know? You're good and she's…she's fine. I don't really see a difference."

But she is different, Tim thought. Lyla is very different. "You'll see it when she's dealing with Delilah," he said. He shook his head. "She gets sad. She has to help people you know? It's like an addiction. Only difference is she's happy about doing it. Loves it."

"Yeah," Tyra figured, shrugging and nodding. She smiled again. "Look at us Tim. I mean…" She shook her head, whispering. "I'm vice principal of an international school while I get my second Master's degree…I'm a guest lecturer at Georgetown University and I'm engaged and living with a guy that works for the President."

So that's what Aiden did, Tim thought. He smiled. "You did good Collette. Always knew you would."

"No you didn't." Fine, he thought, shrugging. If that's what she wanted to believe, fine. He thought she would do something…bigger. Tyra sighed. "So Lyla's officially divorced and you're going to propose. Any idea when or how you're going to do it?"

"Yes."

She held her hands up, laughing. "You going to share?"

Not really, he thought, turning the ring around in his hand again. He looked up, his voice soft. "It's weird. With you."

She smiled, nodding in understanding. "Yeah, I know what you mean. To a point. Especially with her." She blew out a hard breath, shaking her head. Tyra leaned forward over her knees, fiddling with her ring. She chuckled. "You know…" she trailed off, lifting her eyes to him. "You know when we were in high school I knew you had a thing for her. Didn't know how far it would end up going, of course, but I knew. That's why it killed me when you cheated…"

"Tyra," Tim whispered. They were practically thirty. Did they really need to go over this again? He frowned, shaking his head slightly. "I don't think…"

"Let me finish." Tyra took a deep breath, folding her hands together and lifting her face to the ceiling. "What I'm trying to say Tim is that…that at the time it was anyone but her. I knew you didn't stay faithful to me and I wasn't always faithful to you, but it was different because it was her. It was Lyla Garrity, the girl I wanted to be growing up. With the perfect family and future and life and you wanted her…" She closed her eyes, laughing. "And I thought it was the end of the world when you cheated on me with her. I really thought that you were distant because of Jason, not because you were with her, but…it made me feel stupid and well hell Tim, I grew up." She laughed, looking around the room. "I'm so far from that girl I don't even know who she was and…and now I guess I find it kind of funny because well…" Her eyes sparkled and she was practically beaming. "Well now I don't want you with any other woman but her. If that makes sense."

Not really. It made no sense to him, actually. If you hated her as much as you did, wouldn't you still not like her, he thought, frowning a little. He rolled his eyes. "You're so unpredictable Tyra."

"I don't like being predictable any more than you do."

"Actually I like predictable…whatever. I like it." It made sense. It wasn't necessarily boring, but he liked the simple things. If that was predictable than so be it. He pushed himself up to his feet, looking down at her. He smiled again. "When are you getting hitched?"

Tyra shrugged. "No idea. My mother wants a spring wedding in Texas and if I let her anywhere near this thing, it will be just as tacky and trailer-trashy as Mindy and Billy's wedding."

"That was a fun wedding!"

"You almost burned down the lodge."

"That's because Lyla got drunk and knocked over the candle centerpiece thing."

"And who was the one with her when she was getting drunk? Didn't you almost burn down the house too?" Tyra asked, getting up from the chaise. She walked out of the room, turning off a light and leading him through the house, which he once again had to marvel at architecturally. She pointed at him, reaching with her free hand to pick up her skirt. "You said that you accidentally left the stove on, but I bet Garrity was involved in that one too."

"I don't remember." Tim followed her up the stairs, leaning on the banister. "So when are you coming back to Texas?"

"We're spending Christmas with Aiden's family in Virginia," Tyra said, tucking her hair behind her ear. She shrugged. "I don't know, probably in the summer at some point." She nodded towards him. "What are you doing tomorrow?"

"Dunno. We saw everything today."

"We're taking Delilah to a Christmas thing at Mt. Vernon. You guys can come. When are you leaving for Texas?"

"Tomorrow night," he decided. It would give them enough time to get there by Christmas. He had plans for Christmas. Tim smiled a little. Delilah. She was a cute kid. "You like Delilah?"

"I love Delilah." Tyra leaned on the banister, glancing away. She looked up, slightly sadder. "Her mother kind of abandoned them when Delilah's cerebral palsy got bad. Aiden was working at the White House and trying to raise a special needs daughter on his own…she was in my school actually, when I first got here. That's how we met. Kind of went from there. I love her. I'm actually…" She smiled, her eyebrow arching. "I'm going to adopt her. I can't see myself having children, but I love her and so we decided to file the paperwork."

Good for you Collette. Tim reached for her and wrapped his arms tight around her, kissing her temple. "Love you."

"Go to bed Riggins." She pushed him towards the guest room at the end of the hall, grinning and walking to the double doors that led to her suite. She opened one of the doors and turned, waving. "Night."

"Night," Tim said, grinning and slipping into his room. He found Lyla sitting up; hell, the last time he'd come to bed late, she'd been pissed at him and kicked him out. The Taylor's couch wasn't a bad bed in a pinch, but at least tonight he knew he'd have his pick of guest rooms. He took a deep breath and squinted. "What?"

She shook her head, smiling a little, and glanced at her hands. "You and Tyra. You guys are a lot alike."

He tended to agree with that, to a point. He walked over to the bed and took off his flannel shirt and jeans, crawling into the bed with her. He hit his head against the pillow, staring at the ceiling and sighing. "We're a lot alike, but that's why we couldn't ever work out." He'd figured it out, when she'd come back for Thanksgiving, after his little stint in Nashville. Lyla was at Stanford, meeting Jackson, and he'd briefly considered another…well asking Tyra again if maybe she wanted to just…try or something. Thankfully he wasn't that stupid, because she'd made it absolutely clear anything further between them romantically was over. He'd thought about it, for some time after; he'd changed and she'd changed.

Lyla shrugged again. "What do you mean? It's good when you have things in common."

"Not when you'd kill each other," Tim murmured. He turned his head to smile at her. "I told you in Nashville. I bring out the worst in her and she brings out the worst in me. We drag each other down."

"People can say that about you and me," Lyla said. Why are you pushing this, he wondered. She shook her head on the pillow, keeping her voice down, even though Tim was pretty sure no one else in the house could hear them. "People can say we bring out the worst in each other. That one or the other is too good."

Doesn't matter. He reached for her hand, turning it around in his. It was strange now to see that her ring was missing from her left hand and her chain, with her 'L' charm. She'd said she fixed it, but Tim figured the chain was never broken in the first place. "I love you," he said, finishing the conversation. He kissed her lightly and turned beneath the covers, sighing. "Where's Ewok?"

"He's with Delilah, he likes her."

"He likes everyone but us."

Lyla laughed, punching her pillow and hugging it, facing towards him. "Gracie liked him. Noah liked him. You should take him on the road. Farm him out to people." She smiled into the pillow, her eyes closed. "Or are you so in love with him you can't stand to see him gone?"

Part of the reason. The other part was that he still wasn't Tim's. "He's technically Taylor's."

"True. But you love him, admit it."

Never, Tim thought, mumbling into his pillow. "We're going home tomorrow night. I'm driving."

"Home." Lyla shook her head, chuckling. Her voice was faint, but Tim could still hear it as he drifted off to sleep. "Haven't thought of Dillon as home in years." He smiled, keeping his back turned to her and his eyes shut. I never said Dillon, he thought with a grin.


	16. The Return

**Chapter 16: The Return**

"Just in time," Lyla yawned, walking through the front door of his house, glancing at her watch as she did. She tapped the face of it, turning her neck to smile over her shoulder. "It's almost Christmas. It's eleven-thirty."

"Gives us thirty minutes to get this crap inside," Tim said, lugging one of the duffel bags they'd picked up along the way to store many of the souvenirs they'd picked up along their travels. He walked around a corner, frowning and staring at the Christmas tree set in the corner of his living room. He dropped the bag at his feet. "Who put that there?"

"I don't know, it was here when I got in," Lyla said, plugging in the string of lights. It seemed to make the room burst to life. She pointed to the fireplace. "Light a fire. I'll get more stuff out. I have a gift for you."

And I have a gift for you, he thought, thinking of the ring buried away in his pocket, where it had been for safekeeping since D.C. He didn't want to chance anything. They were both exhausted; they'd driven practically straight from D.C. to Texas without stopping, but some storms in Tennessee and Arkansas forced them off the road for a few hours.

Tim walked into his kitchen, wondering if he had any food, and opened up his fridge, frowning at how stocked it was. That was weird. He closed it without saying anything and turned around. Oh, okay, he thought, picking up a piece of paper folded on the counter. He glanced at Lyla, who was dragging in her Matt Saracen painting. It was almost as big as her; she said she had to have the biggest and the best. He noticed Billy's scrawling handwriting immediately. "What did you do," he wondered, scanning the note.

_Tim- Tyra told Mindy you're gonna' propose, good for you little bro! About damn time. Mindy put stuff in the fridge for you for tonight and the kids wanted you to have a tree. I'm already on what you wanted me to do for New Years. Done deal. Everyone's in._

Idiot, Tim thought, folding the note back up. Yes, he thought everyone would be in. It had taken him nonstop phone calls and promises, but it would all work out. But still Billy, what if Lyla found this? She'd want to know what he meant. He rolled his eyes and shoved the note into a drawer when Lyla stepped into the kitchen. "Truck empty?" he asked, pretending like nothing was amiss. She frowned, nodding. "Cool. Just leave it upstairs."

"Start a fire; I'm going to change out of these grimy clothes."

Fine, he thought, going into the living room and kneeling at the fireplace. A few minutes later he had it going and threw on a few more sticks of kindling he'd had sitting beside the fireplace. Ewok wandered up to him, sat down, and began to stare. What, he thought, glancing sideways. He shrugged. "I'm waiting Ewok, go away."

Ewok barked and ran off to his bed, rolling around in it for a few minutes before grabbing his favored Chewbacca toy and curled up with it. Tim stood up and turned, jumping back slightly at the sight of Lyla in the doorway. He smiled quickly. "Hey."

"Hey," Lyla said, walking towards him. She was wearing a large flannel robe and thick socks. She sat back on the couch and drew her knees up, smiling and nodding towards a box on the coffee table. "You want a beer before I give you that?"

"No." He wanted his mind clear for this, he thought, walking over to sit beside her. He reached his hand over, dropping it to her knee and stretched his feet out in front of him, literally unwinding. Okay Tim, he thought. Now or never…okay not now. Lyla was picking up the box and setting it in his lap. "What's this?" he asked, quirking his lip up. When did she have time to buy him something without him knowing?

She smiled again, slightly mysterious. "Just open it," she whispered.

Okay. Tim shrugged. "Okay," he drawled, unraveling the bow around the large flat box. He lifted of the lid and pushed aside green and red tissue paper, revealing a large leather bound photo album. On the front cover was a photo of the two of them in the carriage going through Central Park. Lyla, he thought, frowning a little and opened it up.

When did you have time to do this, he wondered, pushing through pages of them together. When were half of these photos taken, he wondered. She'd broken it up into each place they'd visited. There were so many. Just of him or her or them together. There were even pictures of Ewok in various stages of annoyance with them, walking around Mt. Rushmore and on the beach in Ohio. There were so many, he thought, smiling and pointing at one. "When was this?"

"Um…" Lyla cocked her head, tapping the photo in question. They were slurping up spaghetti and rolling their eyes at each other. "That was New York. Erin said she wanted a Lady and the Tramp moment or something."

Tim scanned through most of them. It seemed their friends were in on the whole thing, because there was one of them walking back on the beach in Massachusetts, which could only be Claire taking it. He cleared his throat, thinking of something as he turned another page. "Hey," he murmured. "Maybe I do want a beer."

Lyla got up, to get the beer, calling out something about how she made the album for the both of them, when they were snowed in a motel in Arkansas, except that time they didn't have the heat and power going out like in Nebraska. "Uh-huh," Tim said, pretending like he was listening as he removed the ring from his pocket and flipped to the end of the book, where he set the ring carefully between the back cover and the last photo, of them both looking out the truck window as they were leaving, he guessed Chicago. Must have been Matt and Julie who took that one and sent it to her.

He looked up, completely innocent when she returned with a bottle of beer for him and a glass of wine in her fingers. He sipped the beer and set it on the table, tapping the book. "Why don't you keep flipping?"

"Sure," Lyla said, resting her head on his shoulder. She turned another page, her voice soft. "The papers came. Hannibal put them in your mailbox. Signed, sealed, and delivered. Merry early Christmas to me." Good, he thought, waiting silent and still as she turned the last page and the ring slipped out, right into her hand. She picked it up and turned it over in her fingers.

Say something, he thought, holding his breath. He wasn't even sure if he meant say something him or say something her. One of them had to talk; it was getting awkward, with just the fire crackling and Ewok snoring. He took a deep breath. Okay, I'll speak. "You going to say yes?" he asked. I'm not getting on one knee and proposing Garrity. This isn't a Disney movie. It isn't me either. I've got bigger plans than that.

Lyla turned the ring over again, sighing hard. She chuckled, shaking her head and looking up at him, her eyes sparkling bright. "You know," she murmured. She laughed, hitting her head back against the couch. "Tim, you never listen do you?"

"How is this about me now?"

"You just don't listen! Do you remember what I told you?"

No, when? He rolled his eyes, sarcastic. "Well you tell me so many things Garrity, how am I supposed to remember them all?"

"I said," Lyla said, her voice rising. She turned on the couch, her robe falling over her shoulder slightly. She reached up to push her bangs from her eyes, her voice tinged in annoyance, but she was still smiling. "I said that if you asked me, I would say yes. You just gave me this ring. You didn't ask!"

"So you want me to ask? Why do I have to do that?" It's the thought that counts, he thought, rolling his eyes and throwing his hands up in the air. "Fine, Lyla Garrity, you want me to get on my knee or something?"

"It would be nice, but I know you'd never do that, you'd rather poke your eye out."

"I would."

"But yes," Lyla said, sitting primly now, holding the ring out for him. She smiled. "I want you on your knee and proposing."

He grabbed the ring and got on the floor, on both knees and held his arms out. I feel like a total idiot, he thought, rolling his eyes again. "Lyla Garrity…"

"You're on two knees, not one."

"This is as close as you're going to get," he said, holding the ring forward for her and rolling his eyes again, mumbling. This was so embarrassing. So not him. So…he frowned slightly. So predictable. It wasn't what he'd planned, but…it was still predictable. "Wait."

Lyla squinted. "Wait what?"

"This is too predictable."

"So?"

"So, I said I wasn't going to do this if it was predictable." How could he change this up? Could get the dog to do it. He passed the ring to her and hopped up onto the couch, pointing to the floor. "You do it." I'm not so insecure in my masculinity that I have to be the one to propose. Maybe the woman should do it. He cocked his ehad at her, smiling. "You propose." We're going to have our first real fight in this entire debacle now, he thought, smiling gleefully as she fumed silently at him for a moment, clenching the ring in her fist. She cocked her head a little and then stood up, walking into the kitchen. What are you doing, he wondered, leaning over the back of the couch, watching her rummage in the cupboards. "Above the fridge!" he called, knowing what she was looking for.

A few minutes later, Lyla returned with the bottle of whiskey and took a long tug from it, gasping hard as she swallowed. She closed her eyes, whispering. "You want me to propose? Are you that lazy?"

"Unpredictable." He got up, walking to the kitchen for a glass for her whiskey; otherwise she would end up drinking the whole thing. He was halfway to the kitchen when he felt something jump on his back. Lyla tackled him, knocking him onto the floor and rolling over. "What the hell!?" he yelped.

"You are an idiot," she announced, before kissing him hard, the ring slipping back into his hand from hers. He gripped the back of her head, while his hand fumbled for hers, trying to get the ring onto her finger, but she kept trying to push him away. After several moments of making out on the floor of the kitchen, she sat up, her cheeks flushed and eyes wide. "Okay," Lyla said, her hands going to her hips; she nodded. "I'm done."

"Done? With what?"

"With you. I'm leaving." Wait, what? Tim sat up, watching as she shoved her feet into a pair of rainboots she'd dropped in front of the back door and walked by him, the front door slamming shut a moment later. Whoa, he thought, scrambling to his feet. Did he seriously just mess this up that bad that fast? New record, he thought, running for the door and ignoring the fact that he didn't have on shoes. "Garrity!"

Ewok barked, running after him, even mimicking his jump off the porch, without using the steps. Tim ran after Lyla, grabbing her around her waist. "Garrity, get back here!" He took a few deep breaths, holding the ring up. "Marry me."

Lyla crossed her arms over her chest. "Marry you?"

"Yes. Marry me," he mumbled. This was not going how he wanted it to be, but…well he supposed that was all well and good, because he didn't want to be predictable. He sighed, holding the ring up again. "Come on. Just do it."

"I can't hear you." What? I'm speaking normal volume. She smiled, shrugging her shoulders. "I want to hear it louder."

You are such a spoiled brat, Tim wanted to say, but he didn't, and snorted, shaking his head again. He turned in a circle, his feet growing numb in the cold. "Damnit Garrity! What do you want me to do? You want me to be predictable and all and get on my knee, proposing to you like some stupid movie? What more do you want?" He pointed to the ring in his hand and waved it around in the air. "I have the ring! What do you want me to do? You want me to say that these last three weeks have been some of the best of my life and all I wanted was for you to be back to your old self because I love you and I've always loved you and I am tired of waiting and I just want you to please, will you please, Lyla Garrity, will you please marry me?" He smiled, realizing that that was exactly what she wanted, as she smiled wide, her eyes shining. It was freezing cold outside, he was numb all over and not just from cold, and she was standing there in a robe and rainboots.

Unpredictable. Well he wasn't sure anyone had ever gotten engaged like this. In fact, he kind of was prepared to do the whole down on one knee thing, because he had other plans. Bigger plans. He smiled again and his voice dropped to a soft plea. "Please?"

It worked, he thought, as Lyla grinned, her eyes crinkling up. She nodded, her voice soft. "Yes," she answered. She nodded again, taking a deep breath and releasing it hard as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Yes. Yes I want you to do all that."

"Kinda' just did, you're not getting it again," he mumbled, kissing her again. It was about damn time, he felt like adding, somehow slipping the ring onto her left hand while she pushed him back towards the house. They stopped at the base of the steps and he pulled back, whispering. "I'm frozen."

"So am I," she laughed, grabbing his face again while he lifted her up into his arms, carrying her back to the house. "Well isn't this romantic," she drawled, kicking off her rainboots as they went inside.

Tim smiled stupidly. "Been wanting to do that for years."

"About damn time," Lyla whispered, kissing him again.

Well at least someone said it, he thought, dropping her in front of the fireplace to thaw out. They were both sitting up, but still tangled together, his hair sticking up everywhere from her fingers shoving through it and her robe now falling over her shoulders. He frowned slightly, glancing down at her outfit and then back up. "What are you wearing?" he murmured, beginning to smile and reached for the sash of the robe.

Lyla's eyes danced with mischievousness. "You put it in my bag, it was only fair I wear it at least once," she mumbled, shrugging off the robe to reveal the red lingerie he'd tossed in as a joke. She giggled against his lips. "I'm never wearing this again so take a photo." She sobered up instantly, glaring at him and her voice hard. "With your mind, not an actual camera."

"Aw, that would have been a fun addition to the album," he said, grinning and kissing her again. He sat up and grabbed her around her knees. "As much as I would like to continue this here, we have an audience."

Lyla glanced over his shoulder, smiling at Ewok, who had taken a position on the couch, staring at them. She kissed him again, whispering against his lips. "Let's go upstairs. I want as much time with you as I possibly can before we have to go tell our families tomorrow."

"We do have to do that, don't we?" Not like they won't already know. Or already know now.

"It's usually a given when you get engaged to someone you've been off and on with for the better part of ten years."

Ten years, huh? They sure as hell had been through a lot. He smiled a little, waiting until after he'd deposited her on the bed, and stretched out beside her. He reached over for her hand, twisting the ring around. It had started out as just a little gift and…well look at how it had all spiraled out in the last six months since she'd returned to Texas. He frowned a little, lifting his eyes to hers and whispering. "I thought when you got on that bus that was it….we'd see each other when you visited, but that would be it and I was okay with that."

She smiled a little, but it didn't mean her eyes, which were beginning to fill with tears. Damnit, I didn't mean to make you cry, he thought, flicking some of them off her cheek with his thumb. She laughed, but it was a bit of a sob. "I know," she said. She nodded and swallowed hard. "I even thought…thought after Nashville…thought that it would be like that too. Friends, but nothing like that again and I was okay with it."

Until it seemed like we weren't okay with it, after her divorce and after she moved back. Even then it was a scary proposition. There was nothing in their way, but they put things in their way. Until now. The last obstacle was gone. It was just them. "I love you," he whispered, looking up again. It was so weird to keep saying that, even if he felt it. He sighed. "And I want this Garrity."

"We still have…have a lot to…" Lyla didn't finish, her words faltering. She shook her head and whispered. "I'm still hurt Tim. From a lot of things that happened the last couple of weeks and…and I know you're still working through some things, but…" She smiled again, happier this time. "I guess we can figure that out."

I'm not going to let something as silly as distance come in the way of this, he thought. They were on different paths but somehow…he quirked his lip up, whispering. "Guess we're finally on the same path."

"I kind of made sure I'd get there," Lyla said. She chuckled, reaching over to wrap her arms around his neck and rested her head on his heart. "You know Claire said that to me in Nashville. I told her we'd never end up together because we were on different paths…and she said what if you one day ended up somewhere near his and started forcing your path to yours…I said I wouldn't, but I think I knew that was a lie."

It's what you said six months ago, when you moved back to Austin and dropped by here, he thought. You weren't going to let fate decide your future, you'd just do it yourself. Guess we finally stopped letting fate decide. If there was such a thing. He kissed her temple. "I love you."

"I love you too. Merry Christmas."

Huh, guess it finally is Christmas, he thought, glancing at the alarm clock. He was exhausted. He sighed and closed his eyes. "We're too old for this going to bed at midnight thing."

"Hmm…I think we just need a little nap," Lyla yawned, reaching for the quilt at the end of his bed, pulling it up over them. She sighed, whispering. "I want to get married outside…in a dress that isn't white." I know, he thought, stretching out beside her. She reached over and patted his shoulder. "Go to sleep."

Go to sleep? How can I sleep? He leaned back on the pillow, waiting a moment before he smiled, glancing down at her. He leaned over and kissed her head, scratching his fingers through her short hair. He leaned down again, sniffing it and smiled. Back to coconut again. Good.

"Go to sleep," Lyla mumbled, now a little annoyed. "And stop sniffing my hair."

"Stop kicking me, your feet are freezing."

She opened one eye, her chin on his chest. She quirked her lip up. "Well since neither of us seems to be sleeping…"

Tim smiled; seems like they both got their second wind. "Well if that's not a romantic invitation, I don't know what is."

"Shut up, we've been waiting so long what's a few more hours?" Lyla teased, climbing out of the bed. She patted his cheek and dropped a quick, hard kiss to his lips. "Be right back."

Tim waited for her to close the bathroom door before he beelined to his phone, hidden inside his backpack. He scanned through the majority of the texts, responded to all of them. Everyone was just starting to figure out what they had to do. Good. He heard the bathroom door open, while he was replying to Jason. "Hang on."

"Tim."

"Hang on," he said again, finishing up the text. He turned around, glancing at Lyla, who was stretched out on the bed. He glanced back at the phone and then paused. Whoa. He looked over his shoulder. Lyla wasn't wearing the red thing anymore, he thought, frowning. In fact, all she had was a bow, holding it in her hand and twirling it around on her finger. "Well hello," he said.

She smirked. "Come open your present."

"That's all I'm getting?" He dropped the phone into his backpack and stood up. "I gave you a ring and I proposed. I don't get anything else? I was hoping for a new belt saw."

"Shut up and come here," she giggled, throwing the ribbon onto the floor. Tim grinned, bounding across the room and jumping onto the bed. Jason sure as hell could wait until tomorrow.


	17. Another Trip

**Chapter 17: Another Trip**

"I have an announcement!" Lyla shouted, standing up at the table. She reached for her glass, smacking it with the side of her fork. The fork slipped from her fingers and scattered across the floor, where Ewok and Stevie Riggins's golden retriever Thor jumped on it. She smiled quickly and glanced down at Tim, her hand on his shoulder. "So I just want this to be out there so no one gets any fancy ideas, but…" She held up her left hand, the black diamond ring sparkling. "Tim and I are engaged!"

And no one is going to care, because they already know that and more, Tim thought, tilting back the last of his beer. He'd told her that, on their way to the house, when she was asking him how he wanted to go about letting everyone know they were engaged. He'd said they all figured they were married anyway, no sense making a big deal of it. "Finally," he mumbled, rocking back in his chair, looking around at his silent family. "What?" he demanded. "You all aren't going to say something?" Say something, he thought, glaring at Mindy, who nodded quickly and pushed at her mother's shoulder.

Taking the hint, Angela let out a squeal, reaching for her glass of wine. "Oh that's wonderful!"

"Well you know finally!" Mindy laughed, jumping up from her chair. And then it all seemed to sink in that they had to act surprised, Billy laughing loudly and jumping up to grab him in a hug. Mindy was hugging Lyla, asking about whether she needed a wedding planner or not. Even the kids seemed to realize something was up, the twins and Stevie starting to get excited, with Stevie asking if he could be a ringbearer or best man.

"Ringbearer, I'm the best man," Billy said.

Tim rolled his eyes. "What about Street?" Nice Billy, just assuming.

"You can have two best men."

"Doesn't matter, he's doing the wedding thing," he said, looking up when Buddy approached him. Oh crap. Guess this was it, he thought, swallowing hard. He still had to let Buddy in on the secret. Wasn't sure how to do it. "Hey Mr. Garrity."

Buddy surveyed him for a second, looking him up and down, and frowned, shaking his head before he sighed in resignation. "I guess it's finally final now." He pushed a finger up into Tim's face. "I will kill you if you do anything like what Jackson did to her."

Ordinarily, Tim would be a little afraid of Buddy Garrity. Not necessarily afraid, but he'd defer to him. Out of respect for his elders and all that. Right now though, he felt like going toe-to-toe with him. He stepped forward a little, his voice soft and his eyes focused on Buddy's beady ones. "Mr. Garrity…would you ever think I'd do something like that to her?" Dig deep Buddy. We've already had this conversation. Several times.

It took a minute before Buddy was laughing and slapping him on the back. "No, you're right, but we do need to talk about something…what happened to my daughter's hair?"

Tim sighed, looking across the room at Lyla, who was showing her ring to Mindy and Angela. He shook his head and mumbled. "It's a long story."

"Sounds like this whole three week trip is a long story."

Yeah, kind of, Tim thought. He let go of Buddy, walking over to Lyla, but was derailed when the front door opened. He turned and his eyes widened when a little girl in a bright pink puffy parka screamed at the top of her lungs and took off towards him, pink boots clomping on the hardwood. "Taylor!" he yelled, kneeling immediately when she flung herself at him. His heart jumped in his throat. What was she doing here!? They were supposed to be in Germany! He wasn't planning on them being there.

"Daddy Tim!" the little girl giggled, spinning around with him for a few minutes. She let go of his neck for a few seconds to squeal at the sight of him, before her eyes widened and she began to chatter. "We surprised you! We didn't tell anyone! It's a big surprise! I'm here for two whole weeks! I get to stay with you too, Mommy said!"

Oh, Mommy said, huh? Tim looked over the top of Taylor's curly head, narrowing his eyes at Becky, who was hugging and kissing Mindy. "Becks!" he called over the mayhem. He shook his head, pointing to Taylor. "She's staying with me for two weeks?"

"Well she asked and I couldn't say no," Becky said. She smiled sweetly. "She's my only child Tim! And you know me, I can't say no."

"That's always been your problem," Tim mumbled, getting a slap upside the head from Lyla, who came over to say hello and take Taylor from his arms. He smiled a little at the little girl, who had lived with him for the better part of three years, reaching for her again. "Hey, I have something big to tell you, come here."

"Where's Ewok?" Taylor asked, turning her head around, searching for her dog. She released a long stream of giggles, Ewok running up to lick her all over as Tim set her down on the couch. She picked him up, hugging and kissing, letting Ewok slobber over her face. She still hadn't taken off her coat and boots, too keyed up at seeing everyone again. She spun around, trying to focus on him while at the same time try to get her father's attention. "Daddy!"

Luke looked over at her. "Do you mean me or Papa Tim?"

"Daddy you," she giggled, folding her arms on the top of the couch. She grinned wide. "Daddy, Papa Tim has news for me."

"Then why don't you let him tell you, I think you might like it."

Taylor turned again, climbing into his arms. She clacked her heels together, peering up at him, smiling wide. "What news Papa Tim?" She turned her head, picking up the photo album that Lyla had brought along to show everyone. She pointed to him. "This is you? Where is this?"

"That's in New York City."

"I want to go."

"One day, I have some news for you." He pushed the album aside, smiling down at her. Taylor was part of the reason why he'd…he'd gotten better in so many words. There had been Tyra to start and then there was Lyla when he'd kind of lost his mind again. And then there was Becky, who he'd helped during her early days and eventually years as a mother, along with Taylor. God help him, but he loved this kid. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, smiling at her. "So, you know how you want to be a flower girl?"

Taylor nodded, shrugging off her coat. He helped her with her and draped it over the top of the couch. "Yes. Can I be a flower girl? Who is getting married?"

"Me."

Her dark eyes widened, beaming on her small face. "What?"

"I'm getting married to that lady there," Tim said, pointing to Lyla, who caught their gaze and walked out of the kitchen and over to sit beside them. He smiled at Taylor, who was curiously looking at Lyla. "This is Lyla, you remember her? I'm going to marry her. You can be flower girl." Very soon too. He had to let Becky know, but judging by the way Mindy had shoved her into a bedroom a few minutes ago, she was finding out now and hopefully wouldn't let the cat out of the bag.

"Wow," Taylor whispered. She smiled when Lyla held up her left hand, showing the ring. She touched it with her fingertip, still smiling. "It's pretty." She looked up, meeting Lyla's gaze. "You're very pretty too."

Lyla's cheeks tinged pink. "Why thank you."

"You finally proposed," Taylor said, her arms going back around Tim's neck. What? How did she know that? He frowned, silently asking her that question when she giggled, touching her cheek to his. "Mommy was talking in the car. She said that Tim finally proposed and I didn't know what that means. Now I know what it means."

I am going to have to have a talk with your mother about this sort of thing, he thought with a deep frown. Tim glared over at Becky, who was oblivious, and shook his head. "Whatever. Go find your cousins."

"I want to talk with you. I want to talk to you in German. Ich kann Deutsch sprechen!" Taylor shouted. Whatever, Tim thought, shaking his head. She began to babble in German, showing off her talents. He set her on the ground, urging her towards the twins and Stevie. Maybe teach them some German. Tim stood up from the couch, walking with Lyla outside onto the porch. They could finally be alone. It had been constant noise and movement for the last six hours, since they left the warm comfort of his giant bed and had to come early to help clean up after present opening and to make dinner.

He closed the door behind him when Lyla jumped up into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist for a brief moment so she could kiss him, until she fell back down to her feet. "I wanted to do that for a few hours now," she said, smiling against his lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck, linking her wrists. "So, I was thinking, we can't really get Jason here for New Years and everyone together in a week, so…next Christmas, we get married."

A year? That's a long time to wait, he thought, kissing her again. And we won't have to do that either, he thought with an innocent smile. They'd done everything quickly. It wasn't like subtle was their strong suit. So it would continue to move quickly, even if she didn't think it could. Very quickly. Tim nodded. "Okay," he lied.

"Okay." She released a long breath through pursed lips, shrugging her shoulders. "What?"

What, what? He shook his head, slightly confused. "What?"

"There's something going on with you. You're thinking about something. What's going on?" You know me well, he thought, cocking his head slightly. There was something he was hiding, but…well he figured he'd bring up something else that had kind of been in the back of his mind throughout the last few days. Especially since New York, when Jackson made his ultimatum with her. Lyla reached up, pushing his hair from his eyes, mumbling. "I'm going to cut your hair this weekend."

He turned his head, blowing out a hard breath. It wasn't that cold, but he could feel it in the air. Might even frost. He stepped away from the house, his hands going into his pockets and wishing he had his coat. The longer they stood out here, the colder it was going to be. He walked over to the pool, leaning against the wrought iron fence and glancing sideways at her; she'd followed right behind him. "It's not a big deal, just wondering something," he murmured.

"Shoot."

"Jackson." Lyla closed her eyes. Yeah, I know, he thought. We're done with him, but for this one little question I can't help but get away from. It didn't matter, in the end. It was all over. It was just nagging in the back of his mind and he hated when that happened, because, well, nothing got to him that much. If it did, it was rare and he was usually done with it after a short while. This was just…bugging him, he thought, sighing again. "It's not a big deal," he mumbled, looking up at her. She cocked her head and narrowed her eyes, but she was still smiling a little. He rolled his eyes. "Well, not a really big deal, just…"

"It's just bothering you that Jackson would…" Lyla leaned against the iron fence beside him and crossed her arms over her chest tightly. She closed her eyes. "It's cold out."

"No more than Massachusetts or Chicago."

"You're right there." Lyla reached up, tucking a strand of her bangs, which had grown quickly over the three weeks they'd been gone, back from her face with the bobby pin that had slipped over her ear. She crossed her ankles in front of her and stretched her legs out. "You want to know why he was so…upset about you."

It hit him after New York, on their way to D.C. He'd pushed it out of his mind, but yeah, it was coming back. "Claire said he didn't know about me. Not really."

"He knew who you were," she whispered. Lyla chuckled. "I didn't tell him about you. That's why it was a big deal."

He glanced sideways. "I don't get it."

"Husbands and wives tell each other everything," Lyla whispered. She quirked her lip up, her voice teasing. "I'll have to teach you that when we're married, but you're supposed to be your husband's best friend and he's supposed to be my best friend and…and he was for awhile." She swallowed audibly, maybe thinking about something, he thought, because she paused a little longer than he thought she would, thinking about Jackson, maybe…Tim glanced at her again and she looked up, smiling again. "I didn't tell him about you Tim. He visited Dillon a grand total of two times in our pathetic three-year marriage. You were out of town. Designed that way on purpose. In any case, the few times he asked about who you were, all I said was that you were an ex-boyfriend."

She took another deep breath. "Hiding things…after we separated and he found out about you…I imagine that it hurt him. Realizing that I hid you from him. For good reason. But I think he knew anyway, because…because the couple times that you came up in our marriage…related to a couple of big…problems."

Problems? Tim wanted this over with. It was almost gone from both their lives and they could move on. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"Tim."

"Just…tell me so it's over and done with," he sighed. He glanced back at the house. The warm house. With the cold beer. He sighed again. "So I can go back inside and not freeze to death out here."

Lyla smiled and then pursed her lips, thinking for a second. She sighed, raking her hands over her hair again. "I once told Jackson that if we had children I wanted to name the boy Timothy. He asked why and I stupidly told him the truth. Could have said that it was a family name or just something I liked, but I actually told him, dumb as it was, that my ex-boyfriend was named Tim and I thought that he was one of the better people I'd known in the world. He wanted to know why I'd name my child after an ex-boyfriend and I said that you were my first real experience with grown-up love and not puppy love like Jason and that I learned a lot and…and I got him off my back."

"Seems like you should have gotten a divorce then," Tim mumbled, but he smiled when she pushed against his shoulder. He smiled again. "So what else?"

"Oh just…said your name in bed once."

"You what?!"

"Kidding," Lyla laughed. She grinned and shrugged again. "No, Tim it's hard to explain, but…Jackson was so busy throughout our marriage and so was I and…and the few times you came up I think he knew that there was something there because I wouldn't talk about it. But I'd talked about other things. And then we divorce and the first thing he finds out is that I'm back in Austin and…and that I'm paling around with the same ex-boyfriend I told him several times throughout the marriage was no one. For all I know he had a private investigator after me or something Tim, it doesn't matter anymore."

No, it really didn't. The door was closed now. "Doesn't matter," he agreed.

"Nope." Lyla looked over her shoulder and back to the house, whispering. "Mindy did well. I keep forgetting this was the dump where I once had to use coffee filters as a protective barrier on the toilet."

Tim frowned. "Why were there coffee filters in the bathroom?"

"Good question, I've wondered that myself. I also wondered why you slept in the converted garage instead of the actual second bedroom."

"It was bigger."

"Where'd the pinball machine go?"

Tim sighed, shaking his head in memory at the death of the pinball machine. "Mindy. She put it in the back and then I came home one day to her attacking it with a sledgehammer." He turned away from the fence, following her to the house. "Hey, I'm going to get a pinball machine for the house."

"Not my house."

"Funny, it's still my house."

"Then get a pinball machine." She walked away from him when they went into the house, joining Mindy and Angela in the kitchen, considerably more comfortable with them than she had been in the past. Tim wondered if it was just her new approach to life, or if she just wasn't afraid of Mindy and Angela's tough girl personalities.

Becky sidled up beside him, holding a glass of wine. "You shouldn't be drinking if you're pregnant," Tim said, just to piss her off. She bitched that she wasn't pregnant, did she really look like it and he got an elbow to the gut, but he smiled, glancing down at her. "What's going on Becks? Lyla's going to let me get a pinball machine."

"No she's not."

"She just said…"

"Welcome to the world of women, where we tell you what you want to hear and then do it ourselves the way we want it done in the first place," Becky said, grinning up at him. She leaned her head on his shoulder, looking up again. "I did it the entire time I lived with you. You still have that frilly bedskirt?"

"No." Yes. Tim glanced at Taylor, who was playing with Ewok and watching the Grinch on television. He dropped his voice. "Mindy tell you the plan?"

"Ooh, secret agent Tim," Becky whispered. She smiled, grinning around her glass again. "Yes. She told me. " She wrapped her arm around his waist, her head knocking into his. "I love you. I'm very happy that you're happy. I guess I kind of freaked out when we left that you'd go crazy again, but you didn't and I'm glad."

I wasn't psycho or anything, Tim thought. He met Lyla's eyes across the room, smiling at her. He'd have to leave her alone at some point. When she went back to Austin for work again. Was she this nervous for him? When she left Austin and went back to Nashville, was she nervous about it? He didn't think so, because she'd left without telling him, but that was probably for the best at the time. He felt nervous though. Whenever she would go back to Austin…hell, they probably should talk about that. She worked in Austin and he lived in Dillon. Four hours back and forth, he imagined.

He leaned his head against Becky's, in a rare form of public affection for her. He usually kept that private. "Thanks," he whispered. He reached his arm around, quickly giving her a side-hug. "You didn't mean that much to me for me to lose my mind."

"Shut up, I totally did."

"I liked being about to leave the toilet seat up without you screaming at me."

"And Taylor waking you up in the middle of the night for stories."

Yes, even that, although he had to admit, that was kind of nice when she'd have a bad dream and run to him instead of Becky. It pissed Becky off to no end, but he found it entertaining. He nodded to Taylor, on the floor with Ewok. "You going to take him?"

Becky shook her head, her voice soft. "No. Gives us a reason to come visit." She looked up, her eyes sparkling. "To see the dog."

"Shut up," he laughed, kissing the top of her head and letting go of her, walking back over to Lyla. He dropped a kiss behind her ear, whispering. "Let's get out of here."

"But what about…"

"Let's," he said, choosing his words slowly and whispering in her ear again, his fingertips dropping down to her hips. "Get. Out. Of. Here."

She turned around in his arms, kissing him hard. "Fine. But you're telling my dad it's because you want to take me home and ravish me insatiably."

"I don't know what that means."

Lyla kissed him again and tapped his nose as she pulled away, smiling darkly. "I'll show you when we get home."

Let it be said that Lyla Garrity has a bad girl streak inside of her, Tim thought with a quick grin. And hell, I just help make it worse. Not that that was a bad thing. He glanced over at Buddy, who was scowling at them, standing between Luke and Billy, who were fighting over the Panthers' possible defense next year, since Billy managed to, possibly in violation of Texas High School Athletic Association rules, convince a couple of giant kids and their families to move three streets over so they were in Dillon's district and not Laribee. He approached the group slowly, his hands going into his pockets. "We're taking off," he announced.

"But we just got here," Luke said. He rolled his eyes. "But we are here for two weeks."

"Then I'll see you tomorrow, call before you come over," Tim advised. He didn't want Garrity and him in the middle of something and Becky decided to just wander on by like the owned the joint. He glanced at Buddy, who was scowling deeper. Maybe he just was realizing what it meant that his daughter is engaged to me, Tim thought. "So we'll see you around Mr. Garrity."

"What's the hurry?" Buddy said.

Lyla came over, holding Tim's coat. He was at a loss for words and unfortunately for him, Lyla decided to do one of those things were she stuck their relationship right in her father's face as bait. "We're going to go make you grandchildren," she said, taking Tim's hand. She wiggled her fingers at his shocked expression, while Billy burst into laughter and Luke just shook his head. "Bye, bye."

They left the house and Tim spun on her. "Thanks a lot! He was just starting to like me for real and now you reminded him of all the reasons why he hates me."

"Oh relax," Lyla said, kissing his cheek and walking with him towards the curb, where he'd parked the truck behind Buddy's monster Suburban. She opened up the door while he walked around to the other side, still annoyed. She smiled. "He always wanted grandchildren and feared you as the father, but he'll survive."

"You didn't need to remind him."

"I'm kind of over my father's feelings about our relationship and will not coddle him." She cocked her head, smiling wide. Like an imp, he thought, scowling at her. Lyla Garrity could be a total devil when she felt like it, he thought again. "I'm done Tim. I'm going to do what I want, when I want. I let that side of me die away with Jackson and I've had it. If these last three weeks with you have taught me anything, it is to do what you feel like doing as long as it makes you happy."

Within existing laws, Tim wanted to say. He smiled and shook his head. "Life with you will be very interesting."

"And you think life with you is going to be boring for me?"

He pulled away from the curb, heading towards the end of the street and sighed. "I don't think anything is going to be boring for us Garrity." And I really wouldn't have it any other way.

"Merry Christmas Tim."

He glanced sideways, smiling wide and took her left hand into his, squeezing hard, the ring digging into his palm as a reminder. "Merry Christmas Lyla."


	18. Epilogue: A New Map

**A/N:**Couldn't think where else to go with this fic so I ended it :) Thanks for the reviews and I hope people enjoyed it!

* * *

**Epilogue: A New Map**

_One Week Later_

Where the hell was Tim? Walking down the stairs, Lyla dropped off the last step, tugging down on the sleeves of his flannel shirt she'd thrown on as she'd climbed from bed a few minutes ago. She scratched at her hair, yawning and shuffling into the kitchen. "Tim?" she called, her throat scratchy. Damn, I'm exhausted still. I'm never this tired.

It wasn't like she had been sleeping most of the night anyway. Tim had been especially…tiring the night before. She wasn't sure why. It had almost been like he wanted her to sleep in. Maybe he ate his Wheaties that morning or something, she thought, frowning at the sight of a paper bag on the counter next to a cup of coffee. There was a turned over receipt on the counter beneath the bag. She picked it up, frowning at his scrawling handwriting.

_I have to work. Later. –T_

Your name is three letters long and you can't bother to spell it out, she wondered, setting it down and peeking into bag. "Ooh," she said, removing a bearclaw and carried it to the microwave, heating it and the coffee up. She sipped it a few minutes later, smiling in satisfaction. Perfect latte.

This left her in a predicament though. If Tim had to work today, then what am I supposed to do? It's New Year's Eve, I thought we might…well she wasn't sure what they would do. Maybe drive to Austin, have her actually clean up her house, because she was sure that it was a disaster from when they'd left a month ago. She needed to get her car; it had been a little annoying to be without one the last week. Not that she and Tim had left his house much, except to go hang around with his family.

She turned around, spying Ewok sleeping in his bed. "Daddy left you, huh?" she said, walking by him. He woke up instantly, running to sit beside her on the couch. She sipped her coffee, took a bite of bearclaw, and then reached for the photo album, going through it again. It made her happy, but at the same time was kind of…well refreshing to see how she'd changed throughout their three-week travels. She was glad it worked. I don't want to feel that confused again, she thought, turning another page.

Several minutes later, she was bored. I have to get back to work. Two days, I have to be back in Austin in at least two days. This whole thing would be over. Lyla stood up, walking around to the stairs, when the front door opened. She glanced over. "Tim, where have you…Daddy!"

Buddy immediately covered his eyes, at the sight of her wearing Tim's flannel shirt and no pants. "Lyla! Why aren't you wearing clothes!?"

I am wearing clothes, just no pants. "Because I wasn't expecting you! What are you doing here anyway? Do you know where Tim went?" Damnit, she thought, running up the stairs. In her room, she grabbed a pair of jeans and tugged them on to wear with the shirt. Lyla ran up the stairs, grabbing a pair of jeans and tugging them on to wear with the shirt. She shoved her feet into slippers and walked back downstairs, a little more composed. Even though she was still confused as to where Tim was. It felt strange to wake up without him around; he'd become such a permanent part of her life the last month. She entered the kitchen and glanced at her dad, who was heating up his coffee in the microwave. "Where's Tim?" she repeated.

Buddy didn't answer her question, taking the mug of coffee and sipping for a moment. He walked over to the fridge. "Does Tim have creamer?"

"No, he doesn't drink coffee. Where is he?"

"He's with Billy right now."

Thought he was working, she felt like saying. There certainly wasn't going to be any work done if he was with Billy. She shrugged. "Fine. What are you doing today?"

"I came over to see if you wanted to help out with some of the Panther decorations for the upcoming winter fundraiser." Always making money, Lyla thought, shaking her head. She shrugged, not really convinced. Buddy smiled again. "Or we could go to the bar and you can help me take down Christmas decorations."

Didn't sound appealing either, but she had to have something to do or else she was going to lose her mind. Again. "Fine," she agreed. She gathered her things, walking out of the house with him, ensuring that Ewok was with her. She climbed up into the Suburban, letting Ewok into the back a second later. She glanced sideways at Buddy. "So Daddy have you heard from Bud?" Referring to her brother.

"Uh…no…I mean, yes."

Which was it, yes or no? "Well have you or not?" she asked.

"He's in Dallas."

Okay. Fine. "What's he doing there?"

"So what did Tim get you for Christmas, anything special?" Buddy asked, changing the subject off her brother. Weird. He continued talking, seemingly rambling. "Did you do anything for yourself this Christmas?"

"I did. I got a divorce." Buddy glanced at her, surprised. She shrugged. "It went quickly once I hired Tim's attorney, Hannibal."

"He's a good attorney, I've hired him for some business deals," Buddy drawled. He sighed hard, shaking his head and pulling the Suburban into a parking space in front of his condo complex. "You also chopped off your beautiful long hair," he grumbled.

"It'll grow back."

"I guess." They drove silently for the next several minutes, pulling in front of the bar some time later. He sighed, climbing out of the car. "Let's get inside, it's getting cold."

They went inside, where she set a coffee pot in his office going, Buddy rummaging for the boxes to return all the lights and decorations. Lyla logged onto the computer, finding her work email had about a billion emails. She set about answering them; drinking her coffee, and listening to her father curse and fall around in the bar as he took down decorations.

A few hours later, she took Buddy's Suburban out to run errands, stopping at the ATM for cash, the post office to mail some of his bills, and even to the grocery store. At one point, she could have sworn she heard someone yell "Lyla!" and saw what looked like a little girl in a pink wheelchair getting spun around a corner by someone that looked a hell of a lot like Tyra. I'm going insane, Lyla thought, running around the corner, trying to see if she could see them, but they were gone. Maybe they were back for New Years and just didn't want…well she didn't know why they wouldn't want her to know they were back. Maybe they were surprising Tim? She still didn't even know where he was. Whatever. Lyla went to check out with her purchases, left, and drove back to the bar.

It seemed like the day went by super fast and it was already growing dark by the time she parked in front of the bar, where Tim's truck was sitting. That thing is going to outlive us all. He had a nice one; she'd seen it in the barn behind his house, where he had his workshop. It had his company's name stenciled on the side and was full of various tools. We should have driven that one to the moon and back, she thought.

She walked into the bar, where Tim was talking, hushed, with Buddy behind the bar. "What are you guys talking about?" she asked. "Can't be anything good." They instantly stopped speaking, which only told her that they were up to no good, and Tim smiled a little at her. She rolled her eyes and scowled. "Where have you been all day?"

"Working."

"On New Year's Eve?"

Tim shrugged. He tossed his car keys in the air. "Hey, I gotta' make money somehow. Anyways, are you done? Let's get out of here, I've got some plans for the night." Lyla squinted at him, trying to judge what he was up to, but he smiled again. "It's going to be fun. Come on."

Okay, she guessed, shaking her head and gesturing to the office. "Let me get my stuff." She went to the office, gathering the rest of her things she left behind, turning around and glancing at something that caught her attention behind the door. It was a suit, hanging on a peg. Weird. She frowned, walking out of the office and gestured towards it behind her. "Daddy why do you have a suit there?"

"Oh you know," Buddy stammered, shrugging. He glanced at Tim and then to her again. "For investors."

Okay then. Guess it made sense. She kept a change of clothes in her office for sudden meetings with executives. Lyla said goodbye to her father, walking out with Tim. "So what are we going to do tonight?" she asked. She climbed into the truck, looking at him, but he said nothing. She shook her head, whispering. "Tim, it'd be nice if you spoke with me. We are engaged after all."

They drove silently for a few more minutes, until Tim shrugged, nonchalant. That should have tipped me off, she thought, frowning at him. He was never nonchalant when she was upset with him. He usually just didn't know how to explain himself properly. "I was getting something together. It's a Christmas gift, it's just a little late," he said, his voice soft. He smiled again, his eyes crinkling. "Your dad was kind of in on it, keeping you busy while I got everything together."

Oh? What did that mean, she wondered. They didn't speak for the rest of the drive and she frowned as they drove up to the house. "Oh," she sighed, grinning at the lights strung around the eaves and rafters. Even some trees in the back of the house were strung up. It sparkled beautiful in the dying evening light. "Beautiful. Is this it?"

"Not quite. I know that when you were a kid you guys dressed up, right?" he said, guiding her towards the house; Ewok ran on ahead, ducking through the crack in the door as Tim slowly pushed it open. Lyla was greeted with more lights, this time strung around the staircase railing and banister with evergreen. Was he decorating all day? Could have told her that, she thought, turning slowly to face him. She nodded silently. They would dress up in their best clothing, have dinner, and go to church, usually. Even when they didn't, she still made sure to wear her prettiest dress for Christmas. Tim smiled, leaning in to whisper against her lips. "Thought we'd do that again, but for New Year's. Go upstairs."

She frowned; what was he doing? "Go upstairs?" she murmured. She cocked her head, smiling slightly. "That's what you want me to do? Go upstairs? Why don't you tell me what you've been doing all day and it isn't just decorating. Or working." You have something up your sleeve.

Tim shook his head, whispering. "Just do it," he murmured, his lip turning upward. He turned her to the stairs, pushing her lightly by the shoulders. "I'll be down here. Get dressed, look nice…trust me."

Trust you? I have put my trust in you…she smiled a little; I've put my trust in you for the last month and…well you haven't let me down, she supposed, reaching her arm around to properly kiss him for the first time that day. A moment later, she broke away and smiled, letting go and walking up the stairs. What the hell…let's make Tim happy, she thought, going into the bedroom.

Where she found a garment bag draped on the bed. "What the…" she mumbled, picking up a card sitting on the bag. Tim surely did not go shopping for her. That was a given. She flicked it open, her eyes widening as she read the neat handwriting. She didn't recognize it, but…but she swore it was familiar. Maybe… "Mrs. Taylor?" she wondered out loud, rereading the note. It wasn't Tim's writing that was for sure.

_I hope the size is correct, but I believe you'll like this. Tim said purple, so I went with purple. Enjoy it sweetie! You only wear it once (hopefully!)_

Purple? Wear it once? Lyla felt her stomach kind of flip with butterflies in her chest, reaching for the bag and slowly lowering the zipper. She closed her mouth, swallowing hard and staring. Oh my. She pushed aside the folds of the bag and removed the dress and coat. The silk was a rich plum, falling in a skirt to the floor, the sleeves and bodice made of lace, with a high neck, the bodice split into a 'v.' She swallowed hard, lowering the dress down and reaching to touch the matching wool coat, a same rich plum. There was a small silver clasp to hold it together at the waist.

What are we doing, she wondered, her throat constricting. I can't…she sighed, reaching to the bottom of her sweater and slowly peeling it off. She put on the dress, finding that it fit perfectly and tugged on black boots beneath it. She looked at her reflection in the mirror of the bathroom, reaching into her makeup bag and touching up her mascara and lipgloss. She did her hair and placed a silver bobby pin along the side to hold back her bangs.

Because she had that feeling in her stomach, a feeling of almost foreboding, she removed a slim silver bangle from her bag, which her mother had let her borrow a few months ago, and pushed it onto her wrist. Something borrowed, she thought, her mind moving as a strange half-speed, walking out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. My underwear is blue, she thought, twisting at her ring as she stood in front of the closed door. My ring is old. And new…she took a deep breath, smiling a little. Well, that would be me, she thought, opening up the door and stepping out into the hallway.

If this is what I think it is, she thought, closing her eyes and pausing, taking a deep breath to soothe her nerves. Oh my God don't faint, she thought again, taking another deep breath. She continued down the stairs, the train of the skirt trailing behind her. She stopped again, her breath catching in her throat. Buddy was standing at the base of the stairs, grinning broadly up at her, wearing a suit and tie. The same one she saw in the bar. "Daddy," she whispered, her voice trembling. "What's going on?" I know what's going on, but still…how was it even possible? When did he even have time? Is this even legal?

Lyla kept wondering, because Buddy didn't say anything, walking her to the back of the house, where she was not surprised to find Tyra waiting at the door, holding some flowers. She was dressed in a black suit and had an overcoat over her arm. "Seriously?" she laughed, shaking her head. She sighed, closing her eyes again. "How did he do this without me knowing?"

"He called about a day after you guys left D.C.," Tyra said, passing her a small bouquet of roses, the thorns cut off, with a white ribbon around their stems. She shrugged, pointing to the flowers. "Best I could do on short notice, it's been sitting in the fridge at Mindy's house and came from the grocery store. Stevie almost ate them."

Buddy patted her wrist. "You ready?"

I think I just want to see what this is all about now, Lyla thought, nodding slowly. She stared ahead as Tyra pushed open the French doors, stepping out and onto the porch. At the base of the stairs, near one of the trees, she found Tim, standing sheepishly, his hands in his pockets. He'd actually changed, wearing a black suit with no tie. She shook her head at him in disbelief, unable to hide her smile. I'm going to kill you, she thought, laughing.

Next to Tim was Jason, Erin beside him. Gracie, Coach, and Tami were also there. So was Noah. Aiden and Delilah. Even Claire, she thought, laughing again at the sight of her friend, wearing a blue dress and holding another small bouquet of flowers. Stevie was dressed in a suit and was holding a box tight in his fist. Luke was holding Taylor on his hip; she was wearing a pink dress beneath her puffy coat and holding a basket of flower petals, throwing them in the air over her father's head.

It seemed everyone I want to be here is here, she thought. No Matt and Julie, but Lyla figured if everyone flew in last minute they probably couldn't get there in time. She saw her brother and her sister and even her mother. No Kevin, thankfully. "Hey Mom," she whispered, Pamela walking towards her, shaking her head and sighing.

"I can't believe this," Pamela said, smiling wide. "My daughter getting married. Again. To Tim Riggins." You might as well have asked 'where did I go wrong?', Lyla thought.

"It gets easier to accept," Lyla laughed, letting go of Buddy's arm and walking down the steps, her hands lifting up in disbelief. She didn't care about the people around them. It felt like this was just she and Tim at this point. "Well Tim, you got me here!" You could have told me we were getting married right now, but…hell, she almost couldn't see this happening any other way at this point. "Could have let me know!"

Tim reached for her hand, drawing her forward. "Thought I'd be a bit…" He shrugged, smiling and whispering, suddenly serious. "Unpredictable."

I can't even think about that. All I can think of is that you did this. For me. In one week. "You do listen to me," she whispered, looking up at the lights around them, hanging from the trees. The nighttime, the purple dress…just her family and friends. Lights in the trees and her wedding at the holidays. It's what she'd wanted. "What a way to start the new year," she whispered, looking at him.

He grinned. "Didn't think about that."

"You realize this isn't legal."

"Oh sweetheart just go with it," Tami piped up from her side, chuckling. "We all pitched in."

"I helped with the dress," Gracie said, grinning. She reached out to touch at the skirt. "It's very pretty. Do you like it?"

"I love it, thank you" Lyla whispered, grinning broadly at Gracie, which had the young girl's eyes lighting up and face beaming. She linked her arm with Tim's. "Let's get this show on the road, huh?"

Jason clapped his right hand around his left. "Well I still have to get properly ordained by the internet for the State of Texas, but the website said that my license is pending, so this should be legal…soon." So it's not legal, Lyla thought, arching an eyebrow up. It didn't matter if it was or not. It was the sentiment and ceremony that counted. He grinned, looking up at them. "So I had a week to figure out what to say for this and well…rather than the traditional vows, I thought I'd just say what we're all thinking and get it over with…" He glanced at Lyla. "It's not too late to get out now."

"Six!"

"Jason," she laughed, covering her mouth with her hand, grinning while Erin rolled her eyes and everyone else laughed. Lyla beamed up at Tim. "I don't think so. I've had ten years to get out."

He smiled, softer, and nodded, his voice quiet and everyone else growing silently so they could hear him, gathered around the small makeshift altar. "Well I want to say that you guys are my best friends and…our history is long and it's got some dark moments, but overall you guys have always been there for me and for each other and I want to say that I…" Jason trailed off, swallowing hard and whispering, his eyes focused on them both and no one else. "I love you guys and I know you'll love each other more. I know…" he glanced down at the ground and then back up again. Lyla's arm tightened around Tim's, wondering what Jason was going to say; her heart hadn't stopped fluttering since she walked down the stairs. "I know some people wonder about you guys. Two people who are so far on the spectrum from each other and I wondered that myself sometimes. Until I realized that it isn't if you like the same movies or if you both have the same hobbies or even careers." He smiled wider. "It's just that you guys temper each other. I think we can all say that Tim needs a push a lot of the time to do…anything, really."

"No," Tim said, while everyone chuckled and nodded. He smiled, shrugging and glancing sideways at Lyla. "Okay, maybe a little."

Jason turned his head slightly, turning his attention to Lyla. Oh what are you going to say, she thought, arching an eyebrow. "And we can all agree that sometimes Lyla gets a little too invested in things."

Okay that was true, she thought, shrugging and smiling. "And what matters," he continued. "Is that Lyla is the push Tim needs to do whatever he doesn't want to do. And Tim is the one to pull Lyla back. We can all try, but it's just not enough. For them, it is." He swallowed hard again, his throat visibly constricting. "And I know that from here on out they will do that for each other, always." He released a long breath, whispering. "You guys have vows?"

Her eyes widened, everything wavering from the tears in her eyes at Jason's kind words, but realization set in. I don't have any, she thought, her eyes widening. I would have…have written something…she cocked her head slightly, glancing at Tim. What was he planning on saying in front of everyone? He wasn't big on his emotions. Especially in public. He took a deep breath, whispering. "I'll go first."

"That's a first," Billy said.

"Shut up."

Only at my wedding, Lyla thought, as Billy made a face behind Tim's back and Stevie began to giggle, trying to hide it behind Mindy's hand as she covered his mouth. She stood a little straighter in her boots, letting him hold her hand loosely in his, while she clutched her roses tightly in her left hand. "Go on," she whispered, silently encouraging him, as a ripple of hesitation crossed his features.

He frowned a little, nodding. "Yeah so…" He looked up again and took a deep breath, lifting his face to the sky. He waited a second and then glanced at her again. "So I'm not going to promise a lot, because you know me…I tend to break things. Um…but…" He sighed hard, whispering. "This is harder than I thought."

All things kind of didn't matter now, she thought, smiling a little. She took a deep breath, slowly releasing it. You're not very good at this and that's okay. "Hey," she murmured, reaching to tilt his chin up so he could look her in the eye. She smiled, whispering. "Let me go." Maybe that will make it easier for you. She smiled, while he frowned a little, nodding in understanding and his hands tightening around hers.

Okay, I was not prepared for this, but…what the hell, off the cuff, she thought, glancing at their small audience. She took a deep breath and looked up to the sky before she released it, smiling. I know what to say. "I thought I was done with you," she said, cocking her head. She squeezed his hand tight, aware that they had about twenty eyes all on them. She felt her eyes begin to prick, blinking away quickly and taking a deep breath, laughing. "I thought I was done with you ten years ago. Turned out…you're a hard person to shake." He smiled at that and she continued. "I never wanted this Tim. I never wanted to be here with you. Ever." She sighed, smiling again. "But you just don't take no for an answer. Never have and…and I am so glad you never have." She swished her lips around, shrugging. "You came to me when I needed you most. Several times. I wanted to turn you away when you needed me, but maybe that's because I knew I'd be here one day and I knew that I didn't want that." She sighed again, whispering. "But whenever I thought I didn't want it, I realized that that just meant I wanted it more. I kept telling myself, telling myself, and finally I couldn't do it again. You're my best friend. You've always been there for me even when…" Tears began to trickle down her cheeks. I was so mean to you so many times, she thought, hiccupping. "Even when I wasn't for you. Because that's who you are and you…you're a good person and I promise I will try to be that way with you. I will always be there."

I can't do this, she thought, hiccupping again. He smiled, whispering. "Don't cry. You make puppies cry when you cry. Look at Ewok."

That had everyone laughing a bit, even if Lyla saw Tyra briefly wipe her eyes. She glanced at Ewok, who was staring up at them from Taylor's arms, his big brown eyes wavering at her. She grinned, turning to look back at him. "And you make me laugh," she said, shaking her head slightly and whispering. "You always make me feel…like the most important person in the world. I promise to do the same to you too. I..." I don't know what else to say. She swallowed hard. "I promise to be me…the me that you love, no matter what." She smiled again, whispering, just between the two of them. "Even if I'm losing my mind."

Tim shrugged, running his tongue over his teeth. She could see the gears working in his mind; it was like seeing the inside of a watch, everything ticking away. Until he finally cocked his head slightly. He was looking at her the way she thought some children looked at new things. Interested. Intrigued. He finally shrugged again, his voice quiet. "I told you I'm not making promises, but I'll be here." He swallowed hard, shrugging again and smiling. "I love you. That's all I kind of can say."

That's all you have to say, she thought, smiling through her tears. Jason took it the same as she did, clapping his hands together and calling out. "And with that, Tim and Lyla have said their vows to each other and by the power invested in me by…well, me and the internet, I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may….okay then."

Lyla didn't have a chance to prepare herself for Tim to grab her, his hands grasping at her jaw and neck, tilting her back from the force of the kiss. She dropped her flowers, her arm around his neck and her hand on his jaw, holding him steady as she kissed back with equal force. She broke the kiss a second later, taking a few shallow breaths and whispering against his lips, her eyes on his as everyone cheered and clapped around them. "I'm going to kill you," she whispered, kissing him again.

"You've said that about a hundred times, so I don't believe it," he murmured, lifting her off her feet and pulling her back, whooping and spinning her around. Lyla screamed, laughing and holding on as her feet flung up from the ground. Flashes went off from phones and she suddenly saw that Matt and Julie had arrived, Matt holding a professional camera and snapping shots.

She grinned, sobering up a bit, and whispered into his ear, making it seem like she was just hugging him. "Thank you for showing up on my doorstep." I honestly mean that, she thought, thinking of the skinny, sad man on her step in Nashville almost seven years ago.

He was quiet, just holding her, while everyone left them along for a moment, going up to the house; somewhere in her mind she heard Taylor say that they got food for everyone and she helped make it. She smiled; it was going to be an eventful night. After a long while of Tim holding her, he whispered into her ear. "Thank you for letting me in."

I love you, she thought, pulling away and kissing him again. He lifted her off her feet once more, and then set her back down, taking her hand and spinning her around. Lyla smiled, knowing they should go inside and be with their friends and family, but right now she wanted to just be with him, spinning around again as he danced her around the backyard, oblivious to their guests. Three weeks, she thought, shaking her head and whispering. "So much has changed."

"You like it though?" Now he seemed insecure and nervous, shyly peering at her across the dimly lit area beneath the tree.

She pulled him closer to her and linked her arm around his neck once more, squeezing his hand tightly. "Yes," she answered, a moment later. She nodded and whispered. "I love it."

Tim grinned. "Good. Now…I have two things that I still have to do."

"Oh?"

"Yes. First is, I need to get a ring."

"You will never wear it."

"I'll keep it in my pocket." And likely lose it, Lyla thought, but she shrugged and he continued. "And the second is our honeymoon."

We just got off a three-week honeymoon, she thought, arching an eyebrow. Maybe they could go somewhere else when it got warmer. Hawaii or ooh, maybe I can convince him to travel to Europe, she thought, her mind already running with possibilities. She kept her face impassive, looking up at him again. "Okay. What do you have planned for our honeymoon."

He seemed a bit too...excited about it, she thought, seeing his eyes sparkling. This probably isn't going to be good, Lyla thought, cocking her head slightly. He smiled. "Yellowstone. Yosemite."

National parks, she thought, nodding slightly. "Okay." She stared at him, realizing what he was implying after a few seconds. She rolled her eyes, groaning. "Tim!" This would likely be the first of many exasperating moments, she thought, laughing. We just finished three weeks of driving, she sighed, shaking her head, knowing that they'd be back in the truck soon.

Tim grinned. "Road trip."

THE END


End file.
